


It's Only Love if it Hurts

by CheynneT



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-14 14:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16914918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheynneT/pseuds/CheynneT
Summary: This story is a follow-on from Series 19 Ep 26 from which the title of this story is taken where, following the death of her daughter, Elinor, Serena tells Bernie she has to leave Holby City General Hospital.





	1. Bernie

The first thing that caught Bernie’s attention as she stepped out onto the hospital rooftop...a place of retreat for those seeking a brief respite from the hectic pace of the trauma unit several floors below...was the two deckchairs she and Serena had used almost six months ago. It had been that long since Bernie had braved coming back up here. Now, however, the chairs lay on their side, toppled over and tossed around by the elements of a harsh winter.

Letting the door pull itself shut behind her, Bernie walked towards them, recalling as she did so the urgency with which she had literally barged her way through that same door the last time she’d had cause to come up here. It had not been long after the death of Elinor and Serena’s grief at the loss of her daughter had still been so very raw. Engulfed as she was in a sea of utter despair and plagued by regrets, her moods had begun to swing unpredictably between a cold officiousness that made exceptions for no one, not even Bernie, to heated tirades of anger and blame aimed at anyone who might have the misfortune of crossing her path. The whole of the AAU had been given cause to tread lightly as though stepping on eggshells when Serena was present as her erratic behaviour began to spiral out of control.

Concerned for Serena’s state of mind when she had uncharacteristically failed to turn up in theatre for an elective surgery, Bernie had gone in search of her. Her worry had peaked when she was told that Serena had been seen entering the stairwell leading to the rooftop.

With Fletch and Jasmine in tow and all three fearing the worst, Bernie had raced towards the stairs only to be frustrated by the locked door, however, the adrenaline coursing through her body and the thought of Serena possibly doing something rash provided her with the strength she needed to shoulder it open.

To their astonishment, they discovered Serena sitting peacefully in one of two deckchairs she’d placed side by side in a snug space away from the disturbance of the air-conditioning units and other hospital machinations housed up here. She was tucked cosily beneath multiple blankets, earphones filling her head with music, a cigarette in one hand and a glass of Shiraz in the other….one of several if the one empty and the other near-empty bottle by her side and the chilled-out expression on her face were anything to go by.

Once Fletch and Jasmine had been satisfied that all was well and had left them to their own devices, Bernie had taken up the empty deck chair beside Serena who then tossed the spare length of blanket over her lap.

Goodness only knows where Serena had found the chairs and blankets but a profoundly-relieved Bernie didn’t really care as long as the woman she loved was safe from harm which it appeared she was. In fact, the only real danger facing Serena it seemed, was the likelihood of a killer hangover the next morning.

Bernie picked up one of the now discarded chairs, unfolded it and set it back on its legs in the approximate spot it had been initially placed by Serena all those months ago. The colour on the canvas seat was now faded to a much paler shade of green and the coat of cheap varnish painted on to protect the wooden frame was peeling off in patches, a reminder of how much time had passed and how much harsh weather it had endured.

As she righted the second chair, Bernie gave it a cursory dusting off then tested the strength of the canvas with a couple of firm presses with her hand. After deciding that the material remained in good enough condition to support her weight, she carefully lowered herself into it. She sat tensely for a moment, holding her breath and hoping that it wouldn’t suddenly give way, leaving her stranded on the rooftop with her bum scraping the concrete and her legs folded up behind her ears, caught in the collapsed frame like a rabbit in a trap and unable to escape. Finally, convinced that it was secure, she eased back further and made herself more comfortable. 

Although it was early April and the transition from Winter to Spring was virtually complete, there was still a fresh nip in the mid-morning air. Bernie tucked her hands deep into the side pockets of her sweatshirt. God, she wished she had a cigarette right about now but she had promised herself she would give up for good this time and she’d stuck to that promise for three months, two weeks and the better part of three days so far and she was determined not to let the uncertainties of her life cause her willpower to falter. Instead, she tilted her head towards the sky and tried to distract her mind from the general chaos of the day and the craving for nicotine with the game she’d often played with her children, Cameron and Charlotte, when they were very young, that of identifying familiar shapes among the billowing white clouds, as they drifted sedately overhead, their form constantly morphing … one minute a turtle then a person’s face. A train. A giraffe. A three-legged dog?

Without any conscious effort, her thoughts slipped from observing the clouds to thinking of Serena, but then Serena was never too far from her mind despite the almost six months it had been since they had last spoken.

Bernie closed her eyes and, as she was now so practised in doing, conjured up the scene of their last evening together, concentrating fully as she brought the image of Serena sitting beside her into sharp focus. It was almost as though she could feel the same comforting warmth they had had that night as they huddled their bodies as closely together under the blanket as the deckchairs would allow. She could almost smell the faint waft of cigarette smoke and shiraz that had hung in the air but, best of all, she could almost feel the reassuring touch of Serena’s palm pressed against her own as their fingers entwined in a relaxed clasp that rested on Serena’s thigh.

 She recalled the long silence that had stretched between them at first, each woman wondering to herself why it had to be like this, each one hesitant to speak, fearing the inevitable outcome of the conversation they had to have and unfortunately, when the words did finally spill, it had gone to script.

Gently but with her usual candour, a surprisingly coherent Serena had voiced her need to leave Holby, explaining that working there had become untenable with its ghosts that haunted every corner of every room and the echoes that rang out along every corridor, a constant reminder of all-too-recent and unbearably painful events. She was in a place where her mind was a tumultuous mix of regrets and self-blame and with very few feelings other than contempt for herself and her actions both in the past and the present, she knew she couldn’t accept that she was deserving of anyone’s love at the moment, not even Bernie’s. She tried to convey this to Bernie as best she could, however, it was one of the few times words had failed her. All she could do was offer a promise that she would do whatever she had to, to find her way through this trauma and learn to like herself again. At the end of it all, hopefully, there would remain a place for Bernie in her life.

At the time, Bernie had thought she could live with that simple offer even though it wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. She wanted to be there for her in whatever capacity Serena needed her to be; to help nurse her back to health, support her and make sure she was well-cared for, after all, she thought, that’s what couples do, be there for one another in good times and bad, to love and take care of each other and, while she could understand the need to be away from the hospital, she was disappointed that Serena’s immediate plans didn’t include her in them.

Serena did give her a measure of hope to hold on to and, considering what Serena had recently been through, it seemed selfish… even greedy….to ask for more, but as the weeks passed with no communication, Bernie’s grip on that single thread grew more and more tenuous as it frayed, little by little. Bernie desperately needed to think that all would be sorted before it unravelled completely.

Not wanting to interfere but at the same time, needing to know that Serena was alright, she had sent brief but concerned text messages inquiring as to how she was doing but they had remained unanswered. She had tried calling but was diverted straight through to voice mail.

On one occasion, feeling desperate for news, Bernie had driven to Serena’s house, a little detached place in one of the leafier areas not far from the hospital, even though she had promised faithfully that she would wait until Serena had contacted her. She couldn’t help herself. She had lost many nights of sleep worrying over Serena’s well-being, sleep which, as a surgeon who needed to be alert every time, she could ill-afford to forgo. For her own peace of mind, she needed some reassurance that her friend was coping.

Even as she walked up the front path to the door, she could tell that her trip had been for nought. It was plain that there was nobody home and probably hadn’t been for several weeks. The front garden, which was, without fail, kept neat and tidy, now showed signs of neglect with branches straying over the low, brick wall, dead flower heads drooping on their stems and bushes losing their manicured shape. Not that Serena ever had the time nor the inclination for gardening herself, however, at the first sign of anything becoming straggly or the appearance of weeds she would call her gardener to come and put everything back in order.

Junk mail and advertising catalogues filled the letterbox while even more had spilled into the tiny front yard. There was no way Serena would voluntarily allow that to happen.

From where Bernie stood at the front of the house everything…windows, doors, garages… appeared to be securely shut up.

Despite all these obvious signs, Bernie waited on the doorstep for several minutes, knocking at regular intervals…softly, hesitantly the first time, then gradually more firmly as she waited anxiously for someone to open it…. like all her other attempts, there’d been no response.

Feeling part dismay and part relief …she wasn’t sure Serena’s reaction to an uninvited visit would be a positive one… she eventually returned to her car wondering where it was that Serena had gone and if she was safe both physically and mentally.

  _“Would it really have been too much for you to send me a simple message or to somehow let me know that you were taking care of yourself?” Bernie asked in a desperate whisper as she turned her head to address the woman sitting in the deckchair beside her._

_“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I wasn’t in any sort of shape to talk to you or anyone else. I would have said stupid things…hurtful things...that I didn’t really mean but wouldn’t be able to take back...Tell me you understand,” Serena begged._

_Bernie nodded and softly squeezed the hand she was holding. She couldn’t help but be touched by the lines of worry she could see creasing Serena’s forehead and the soft, brown eyes pleading with her to understand._

_“Why didn’t you at least tell me you were going away?” Bernie asked, “I was worried when I saw your house all locked up.”_

_“I wanted to tell you…I even considered asking you to come with me…but I knew, in my heart of hearts, I had to do this alone. Sorry,” Serena repeated, dropping her eyes to where their hands rested together on her thigh, “can you forgive me? Can we move on from this… together?”_

_“Of course,” Bernie said, again relenting with a smile, “It’s all I want….to know that you’re well and to have you by my side.”_

_She gave Serena’s hand a gentle squeeze once more as their eyes locked._

_“Me too….and thank you.”_

_“For what?” Bernie asked in surprise. She’d felt so helpless for the last few months._

_“For waiting and for being so patient…and for loving me.”_

_“I do love you so very…”_

“Excuse me, is this chair free?” asked a sudden and unexpected voice, the accent and tone of which were strangely familiar.

Bernie’s eyes shot open and, as they did, the image of Serena sitting in the deck chair beside her evaporated. Instead, Bernie looked up into a pair of eyes much lighter than Serena’s.

“Alex.”

“Hi. Mind if I….?” Alex motioned towards the spare deckchair.

“No, not at all…. Have a seat,” Bernie answered as she quickly moved her hand from where it had been resting on what, in her mind’s eye, had been Serena’s thigh, taking one last glance as she did so to make sure it had all merely been a figment of her imagination, while at the same time, desperately hoping that her conversation with Serena had remained strictly inside her head. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was going crazy. She suspected it herself but others didn’t need to know.

Casually pulling the vacant deck chair away to a slightly to a less intimate distance, Alex then lowered herself into the canvas sling while Bernie tried not to harbour any unreasonable resentment at having her conversation with Serena interrupted so abruptly.

Bernie watched on wordlessly, still mute with surprise as, after a quick shuffle to find the most comfortable position, Alex placed her coffee cup on the ground next to her chair and rested what looked suspiciously like a paper lunch bag on her lap. A homemade lunch was a level of organisation that was very unlike the ‘Alex’ Bernie was familiar with. She also noticed that Alex was wearing surgical scrubs and that her hair was dragged back into a stub of a ponytail as was her habit when going into surgery. Although untidy with several strands refusing to remain captive, its colour was still that deep, rich chestnut. Her cheeks were shaded with a healthy highlight of colour and were not as hollowed out as Bernie had often seen them, particularly after they had spent a ridiculous number of hours in makeshift operating theatres following prolonged fighting on the battlefields of Afghanistan.

Noting Bernie’s quietness, Alex turned and asked, “Are you okay with me sitting here?”

Their most recent encounter up until now had also been at Holby City Hospital and it had not ended the way either of them would have liked at the time.

Previously, as a part of the Royal Army Medical Corp, Alex had worked side by side with Major Berenice ‘Bernie’ Wolfe in various war zones of Afghanistan, saving the lives of soldiers and civilians alike while teaching other medics how to deal with the traumatic injuries typical of combat. In a very short time, Alex had found herself falling for the Major and, by Bernie’s own admission, the feeling was mutual.

 One morning, after months of maintaining their secret relationship, their unit was moving out, transferring from one location to the next when the lead vehicle struck an IED hidden beneath the surface of the road.

As intended, the resulting explosion was devastating. Casualties were high. Miraculously, Alex was one of the few who came out of it relatively unscathed despite the truck she was travelling in being tossed metres into the air then rolling several times on landing before coming to rest with its wheels in the air like a helpless beetle flipped onto its back.

 While those who had come out of the attack unhurt went in search of the injured and those who didn’t survive, after checking and finding herself in one piece, Alex’s immediate focus had been to look for Bernie. She initially searched inside the truck which Bernie had been in and then in ever widening circles around it until she found her, sprawled on her back, in a poppy field at least fifty metres from the road. She had been flung from the back of the truck as the blast hurled it in the air. Being thrown out had most likely saved her life for all those who had remained inside had died, their bodies unable to withstand the force as the vehicle was tossed into a roadside ditch. Instinctively, Alex checked for vital signs. They were weak but they were there telling her that Major Bernie Wolfe was alive.

Realising the likelihood of a spinal injury, she immediately immobilised Bernie before tending to her other wounds. It was this quick thinking that had probably kept her alive. Later, at the hospital, initial scans were to show an unstable C5 and C6 caused by a fracture as well as a traumatised cervical disc. Any movement at the time could have caused paralysis or even death out on the battlefield.

The last Alex saw of Bernie had been as she helped prepare her to be airlifted to a civilian hospital. Their eyes met one last time and Bernie had managed to mouth the words, ‘I love you’ before the fog of sedation rolled over her. She was then whisked away to the waiting helicopter.

Following the incident, Alex had subsequently requested and was granted a discharge from the army but being thrust back into the reality of civilian life was challenging. Away from the adrenaline-fuelled existence of a combat region and the tight bond that develops between those you rely on to help keep you alive, things were very different. She felt aimless and, to make matters considerably worse, it appeared she had lost her best friend and lover. She had not heard so much as a word from Bernie since the day of the explosion.

Feeling inexplicably abandoned, Alex had deliberately gone in search of Major Wolfe in the hope of finding some answers to the questions she had. Why had Bernie said, ‘I love you’ and then left her? Why hadn’t she heard from her? It had become known to Alex through various sources that Bernie had made it to the hospital alive but that was all she knew.

 Ultimately, with her dogged determination, she tracked Bernie down to Holby City General Hospital, where she was no longer a patient but a member of staff, one of the trauma surgeons in the emergency unit. Alex was also to learn that Bernie had returned to her husband, Marcus and the family fray in an effort to rebuild the relationship she’d left behind when called up to go Afghanistan.

After arranging for a temporary position at Holby and contriving a meeting with Bernie, their reunion had given rise once more to all the emotions that each had been trying to suppress since their paths had separated. However, their reunion was brief, although it had been long enough for Alex to conclude that Bernie wasn’t ready to face the full fallout of the nature of their love.

Despite Bernie’s eventual declarations and pleas, Alex had left alone but with a promise to return when Bernie had sorted out her life.

That had been over two years ago and she had no idea how Bernie felt about her now.

“Of course it’s okay,” Bernie reassured her. “It’s just that I didn’t….”

“You didn’t expect to see me here.”  

“Yes….er…no…..yes…” Her conflicting emotions were tying Bernie’s tongue in knots.

“Well, which is it,” Alex teased, “yes or no?”

After taking a minute to get her thoughts in order, Bernie replied, “I’m not totally surprised that you’re here at Holby…. After Dr Altman, the anaesthetist in Darwin, retired it was actually me who suggested to Ms Naylor that you might be available to fill the void, at least until they found someone permanent but I didn’t know the offer had been made or that you had accepted so yes, I am surprised in a way…. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to show up here on the rooftop.”

“I remembered it from last time I was at Holby,” Alex said then paused a moment to gauge Bernie’s reaction to the mention of their previous meeting but her expression remained neutral. “It’s a good place to be alone with your thoughts...until someone else comes along and disrupts,” she added with a wink.

“Yes, it is,” Bernie agreed with a wry smile, wondering again if she had spoken aloud and Alex had overheard.

“So I owe you one.”

Bernie looked at Alex questioningly.

“For getting me this job,” Alex replied, filling in the blanks.

“Hardly…..If anyone owes me, it’s the hospital for finding them such a capable anaesthetist…..I imagine you would be in great demand. We’re lucky to have you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Ms Wolfe,” Alex replied, flashing a smile so familiar and disarming that it caused Bernie to blush. 

Dipping into the mystery paper bag, Alex pulled out a pile of fresh sandwiches, each one individually wrapped.

“Would you like one?” Alex said as she partially peeled the paper wrapping from the top sandwich. “This one’s cheese and pickles but I’m not sure what’s on the others.”

In her eagerness to make the most of the chance to escape from the AAU, Bernie hadn’t thought to bring food with her when she’d come up onto the roof. Her appetite, in general, had been poor of late but now, with the sight of a fresh food in front of her, she realised she was quite hungry and it looked more appetising than the dried-out morsels at the hospital’s cafeteria where she would otherwise find herself at the end of her shift, having finally created a small window of time in which to eat so she reached over and took half of the proffered sandwich.

The two women sat quietly eating for a minute or two until Alex eventually asked, “How are you…. and Marcus?”

Bernie looked over at Alex and again gave her a wry smile.

 “I’m fine… working long hours and probably not eating well enough but apart from that, I’m okay.”

 It wasn’t exactly the truth but, always a very private person, Bernie didn’t wish to share with Alex or anyone else just how out-of-sorts she was feeling right now.

“And I’m afraid I can’t tell you how Marcus is…we’re divorced.”

“Divorced? So it didn’t work out then?”

“You could say that,” Bernie laughed drily, “although my intentions were honourable, it turns out I’m not very good at living a lie…oh, and he found out about you which was a little more than he could deal with...”

Alex looked at Bernie, clearly mortified.

“You don’t think I told…”

“Of course not.”

“Who? You?”

“It doesn’t matter….in the long run, it was for the best….and although I may not be on Marcus’ Christmas card list, Cameron and I have reconnected so some good came out of the whole, sordid mess. He’s finished medical school and currently working as an F1 in the AAU.”

Alex sat silently for a moment chewing her sandwich while she absorbed all this new information.

“So, how are you?” Bernie asked, breaking into Alex’s thoughts and hopefully diverting the conversation away from herself.

“I’m good…great, actually.”

“Pleased to hear it.”

Bernie had always carried around a good dollop of guilt about the way she’d treated Alex when she’d decided to do what she thought was the responsible thing and go back to Marcus. The fact that she hadn’t contacted Alex and spoken to her about her decision often weighed heavily on her mind but, at the time, she couldn’t afford the luxury of so much as hearing Alex’s voice over the phone, let alone speaking to her face to face. Her nerve wouldn’t have held. Knowing that Alex was happy eased her conscience a little and she was genuinely pleased for her.

“How long have you been here at Holby?”

“I started on the early shift this morning and there was no easing me into the job, thank you very much…. It was straight into a coronary artery bypass no less…We’ve not long finished…five hours…Now I’m starving.”

Having watched her devour the first half of her sandwich, Alex offered Bernie the second half while tucking into the remainder of her own but Bernie politely waved it away saying that what she had already eaten had filled the spot.

“Are you sure you don’t want it…. there’s literally enough here to feed an army,” Alex persisted, “Thomas made the lunches today and he’s quite clearly become carried away with the responsibility.”

Bernie politely ‘passed’ on the sandwich but the mention of the name ‘Thomas’ had piqued her interest.

“Thomas? You’re not batting for the other team now, are you?” Bernie asked jumping to the obvious conclusion but perplexed by the possibility.

 Deliberately ignoring Bernie’s insinuation, Alex busied herself rewrapping the rest of the sandwich and putting it back in the paper bag then placing the bag on the ground beside her. Eventually, however, she looked up at a still curious Bernie who raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She wasn’t going to let it go that easily. Alex hadn’t intended to bring up the matter so soon. It had been a slip of the tongue but she knew she shouldn’t leave Bernie wondering although it was tempting.

 Bernie assumed her best Shakespearean voice as she persisted with her question, “So who is this Thomas you speak of?”

“He’s my…” Alex began but she was interrupted by the sound of a rather urgent voice calling out from the doorway.

“Ah, there you are, Ms Wolfe…I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

 Both women turned their heads in unison to see Fletch approaching them with a definite sense of purpose.

“Mr di Lucca sent me to find you,” he said, clamping his eyes on Bernie. “There’s a situation down in AAU….”

Bernie was already on her feet, quickly brushing away the few breadcrumbs from her lap as she asked without panic, “What’s happened?”

“Paramedics are on their way with two casualties…an older man, age unknown; the other, eighteen… each with stab wounds….Mr di Lucca would like your ..…”

“Right,” replied Bernie, not needing to hear the rest of the sentence as she was already hurrying in the direction of the door.

Fletch reached it ahead of her and opened it. He stood aside to allow Bernie to exit first but she motioned him on as she turned back to Alex and, almost as an afterthought, said, “We’ll catch up later….. a drink perhaps?”

“Sure. Catch you another time, now scoot,” Alex replied, shooing Bernie away with her hand.

Bernie quickly returned her focus to the task that lay ahead of her as she followed Fletch down the stairs to a waiting elevator.

“Do we know what happened?” Bernie asked Fletch as she watched the metal doors slide silently shut, enclosing them in that awkward intimacy created by elevators.

“Not sure…according to the what the ERT have sent ahead, it started off as a family and friends gathering for the eighteen-year-old male’s birthday. At some stage, the other victim…an older male…approached the lad. There was an argument, tempers flared, knives were picked up and things went downhill from there…the older male has an abdominal stab wound while the eighteen-year-old has multiple superficial knife wounds…mostly defensive…hands, lower arms…as well as one serious wound to the left side of his chest.”

“Pericardial tamponade…” Bernie muttered more to herself than anyone else. Already, her mind was sifting through various possible scenarios.

The lift doors opened and Bernie promptly stepped forward leading the charge with Fletch behind her, straining to keep up. Other staff who were going about their own business in the corridors made way with barely a break in conversation or lifting their eyes from the documents they were examining, after all, it was the AAU. Emergencies were the norm.

Bernie reached the triage area of the unit in time to greet the first of the two gurneys being wheeled in. It was flanked on either side by members of the emergency response team.

On the gurney lay a Caucasian male whose age, Bernie guessed, was approximately forty-five to fifty although his bald head and a full, wiry beard streaked with grey along with some patches of blood, made it difficult to be accurate. An oxygen mask covered his face and a blood-pressure cuff was attached to his left arm. Compression was being maintained manually to a deep abdominal wound which the ERT had packed with hemostatic gauze before bringing him in. He was now in need of urgent attention with the possibility of the function of any number of organs being seriously comprised.

Suddenly Raf appeared at Bernie’s side.

“Ah, there you are, Ms Wolfe. Why don’t I take this one and you take care of the lad,” he suggested as he directed the gurney down the hall.

“Sure,” she replied to Raf’s back as he was already hurrying off after the patient, towards theatre. Despite being head of the unit, Bernie was used to working as part of a team and her ego didn’t insist that she always be the one calling the shots.

Being guided hurriedly behind the first gurney came the second carrying the younger male. Multiple lacerations on his hands and forearms were quite heavily bandaged to stem any blood loss, however, dark red patches had formed over one or two of the deeper cuts.

Paramedics had removed the lad’s shirt to check for other injuries as well as to attend to the stab wound to the chest. Bernie could see that other than the obvious injury, he was in good physical condition. He currently seemed calm, responsive and not in excessive pain as he sat up on the gurney.

“Patient has several superficial lacerations on forearms and hands, three…possibly four… will require sutures. There is a single stab wound to the left chest, mid axillary line just below the left nipple,” rattled off one of the EMTs to Bernie as she approached the gurney. “Heart rate is 90 BPMs, BP 130/70, respiratory rate is 25, body temperature is 36.1˚C. Patient has no pre-existing conditions, is not taking any medication and has no allergies. He was awake and alert throughout transportation.”

“Right. Bring him over here,” Bernie instructed as she directed them towards the nearest vacant bed.

As they were transferring the patient from the stretcher onto the bed and reattaching cardiac monitors, a blood-pressure cuff and oxygen saturation probes, Bernie noted that as well as the nursing staff who were taking over from the emergency response team, her son, Cameron, had also joined the fray. She acknowledged his presence with a brief smile which he returned in kind.

“Okay…ah…”

“Leon,” the patient provided before Bernie could find his name on the accompanying paperwork.

“Okay, Leon, I’m going to treat the lacerations on your hands and arms shortly but first I’m going to do some initial checks and then take a look at that chest wound,” Bernie explained, keeping her manner calm and professional as she carried out the usual preliminary examinations.

“Other than the chest wound, are you experiencing any other pain or symptoms?” she asked as she noted that there were no focal deficits and his extremities were still warm.

The patient shook his head but then, after second thoughts, he said, “I’m a bit short of breath, that’s all. It hurts to breathe too deep.”

Making a mental note of his comment, Bernie addressed one of the nursing staff, “Let’s organise an upright CXR so we can see exactly what we’re dealing with here.”

The nurse immediately left the bedside to do as instructed.

“Now, Leon, I’m going to remove the compression bandages so I can take a look at the wound.”

She carefully peeled back the packing on the left side of his chest to reveal a single stab wound in the mid-axillary line in the 4th intercostal space that was no more than perhaps three centimetres long, however, experience had long ago taught Bernie never to judge the severity of a wound merely by its superficial size.

On closer inspection, she was able to determine a number of relevant factors. The knife, she decided, was thrust into the chest using a slightly upward projection and it must have been very sharp due to the clean penetration through the skin and tissue. A blunt or serrated knife would have left a more ragged cut. Had it penetrated the pericardium, she wondered, or damaged the diaphragm with the possibility of associated intra-abdominal injuries?

As she listened carefully to Leon’s breathing, Bernie noticed her patient’s hands and feet begin to tremble and twitch restlessly.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

He had nodded and had been about to say ‘yes’ when suddenly he lurched forward and let out a loud, agonising groan.

“Where does it hurt?” Bernie asked.

“My back…between my shoulder blades,” he managed to say as he collapsed back into the bed, struggling for breath.

“Subscapular pain,” Bernie noted out loud. “Quick! Prep him for theatre. We’re going to need an emergency laparotomy…we have to find the full extent of his injuries, asap.”

Immediately, the assigned staff jumped into action, heading off in pre-designated directions to make the necessary preparations.

“Will you be joining us at some stage, Dr Dunn?” Bernie quipped as she noticed that all that was visible of her son from where she was standing on the opposite side of the bed were the dark curls of hair on the top of his head.

“Sorry…shoelace,” was all he said by way of explanation as, slightly red-faced from both annoyance and embarrassment, he straightened up.

Strictly speaking, Cameron’s shift had ended almost two hours ago but the unit had been hectic all afternoon and he hadn’t yet been able to affect an escape. He really didn’t need his mother giving him grief.

Helping to monitor the patient as his bed was wheeled in the direction of theatre, Cameron bit back any retort he may have had for Bernie as a mark of respect for her seniority and in the off-chance that she would allow him to assist in theatre. It would be his first emergency laparotomy and he was keen to take part. In the back of his mind, however, was the knowledge that if he did assist in surgery, he would probably be late for the date he had arranged for later in the evening with his most recent potential girlfriend, a woman named Saskia, who had captured his attention at a friend’s Christmas party. It had taken him nearly six months to work up enough courage to ask her out and now they were going out on that all-important third date which he hoped might signify the start of a more serious relationship. Weighing things up, he knew that there was a good chance he could explain his way out of trouble if he had to as he had the impression that Saskia was quite taken with him, besides, it would be career-suicide to pass up an opportunity to assist in such surgery, particularly with a surgeon as skilled as his mother.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Serena

 Serena

Serena disconnected the call and clutched her phone close to her chest. A wave of fear, driven by the realisation that she had probably bitten off far more than she could ever possibly hope to chew, washed over her. It was so powerful that, not trusting her legs to hold her steady any longer, she let herself flop down on the end of her bed.

Her heart was racing. Her palms sweaty. She was more excited and more terrified than she’d been for a very long time…probably since that very first kiss with Bernie. That had been such a life-changing event for her and she fully-expected this most recent venture to be equally so, although she was beginning to have doubts as to whether she was capable of pulling it off successfully.

It had seemed like such a brilliant idea at the time and all the planning and organisation it entailed had given her back a sense of direction at a time when everything in her life felt like it was spinning out of her control. It had occupied that vast space within her mind which would have been otherwise filled with those painful, re-occurring visions of her daughter’s death that inevitably saw her descend into a deep well of self-blame and regret. A place where she drank too much wine, smoked too many cigarettes and conjured up too many thoughts including that constant question …Why was she allowed to be alive while her daughter was dead?  It didn’t make sense. It had never made sense but still it managed to ravage both her mind and soul.

As that thought attempted to seep its way through her brain again, Serena, now alert to its devious ways, sat up on the bed, straightened her back and took one…two…three deep breaths. Each one she slowly exhaled, letting her tensions be expelled with the outgoing air as she’d been taught to do in her counselling sessions.

When she’d first gone to counselling, she had been dubious as to the worth of all the psycho-babble and tricks but, to her surprise, this was one exercise that really worked. As her anxiety dissipated, she could think more clearly. It was pointless, she knew, to continually question why her daughter had died. There would never be a logical answer and she couldn’t undo what had been done. What she could do, however, was make her own life count for something.

If her plan came to fruition as it appeared to be doing, she was hoping to save lives where they were often lost needlessly; a payment or penance of sorts for not recognising Elinor’s need for help, for not showing her enough compassion, for being too absorbed with her own life and her own happiness.

Her therapist had repeatedly assured her that it wasn’t her fault Elinor had died therefore she didn’t have a debt to repay but, while Serena was slowly coming around to the idea, she couldn’t avoid some degree of blame for she alone knew and had to live with her own conscience. Besides, it helped drive her new purpose, a project which gave her back a large slice of her sanity, knowing that perhaps she might save someone else from experiencing the pain of losing their child.

Apart from the huge responsibility she was about to shoulder with this new venture, the other matter that was giving her cause for trepidation was Ms Berenice Wolfe. She loved Bernie like she’d never loved anyone else before nor could she imagine ever loving anyone else like that again. The past months without her had been tough…almost impossible at various stages. There had been several times when she’d been about to pick up the phone and call her just to hear the soothing sound of her voice and to receive the reassurance that Bernie still loved her. On more than one occasion, before she’d gone away, she had marched to the door, car keys in hand, ready to drive to Bernie’s flat, desperately wanting to feel the security of her embrace and the warmth of her kisses. Each time, however, she’d eventually held back. She hadn’t been well enough and it would have been unfair to Bernie to show up in her life only to immediately disappear again.

Despite her longing and loneliness, Serena was convinced she had done the right thing. During her darkest days, she held no doubt that if they had been together, she would have been capable of saying and doing things that even Bernie would have found near impossible to forgive. Things that would have destroyed their relationship. She could only trust that Bernie would see it that way too. 

At the time, up on the rooftop of Holby, where she’d made her final decision to leave both the hospital and Bernie, at least temporarily, all she had been willing to promise Bernie was that she sincerely hoped that there would be a future for their relationship but with no definite answer as to when that might be. Nonetheless, Bernie had promised she would wait.

Looking back over it all, Serena thought to herself how lucky she was to have the love and devotion of a woman like Bernie and yet, here she was again, about to put it all to the test, to risk losing her forever. Was she, in fact, certifiably insane?

Now that she was feeling more like her old self again…. although she was well-aware that she would be forever changed by the unfathomable sadness of losing her daughter…. and with the culmination of several months of hard work about to reach its final stage, Serena’s one wish was that Bernie would be there to join her and help her accomplish her newly-set goal, however, whether she had Bernie by her side or not, there could be absolutely no turning back now. Too many people had put their faith in her and worked tirelessly for her cause. She had to follow through for them as much as for herself.

As she sat on the end of the bed, Serena ran through the words she had scripted in her mind to explain to Bernie what it was that she was about to do and why, making sure to shine the best possible light on each and every argument and unashamedly appealing to Bernie’s compassionate nature. Serena was very conscious of the enormity of what it was she was wanting Bernie to do. It was a big ask. Probably too big. Would she really be capable of doing it alone, she wondered?

Throughout the entire planning process, when the phone calls and meetings and the pleading to government departments and businesses for funds threatened to overwhelm her, she thought of how much easier it was all going to be with Bernie there to share the load but what if Bernie wasn’t there? What then? There was only one way to find out.

Drawing on the decisiveness that made her one of the most valuable surgeons to have in any AAU as well as an efficient head…co-head…of such a unit, Serena stood up, tossed her phone on the bed and went over to her wardrobe to organise an outfit for this auspicious day.

On opening the wardrobe door, she was dismayed by the predominance of black and other dark colours that now hung on the rails. She made a mental note to do something about that the first opportunity she had.

Finally, she decided on a pair of navy trousers and one of the few brighter-coloured blouses that she owned, one with a red and navy geometric pattern with matching navy buttons down the front that were inlaid with a gold-coloured pattern. She lay them carefully on the bed before going off for a shower.

After applying the last touches to her make-up, a red lipstick that complimented the red in her blouse, Serena turned towards the antique cheval mirror that stood in the corner of the room to check her appearance. She wasn’t totally happy with what she saw. She’d lost too much weight in those first few weeks after Elinor’s death where she’d eaten little and drunk far too much and, although she had gradually gained some of it back, her clothes still hung rather shapelessly on her frame.

“I might as well be wearing a garbage bag,” she thought to herself dismally but there was nothing she could do about it for now.

She also noticed that her hair was more heavily streaked with grey than a few months ago. Should she have her hairdresser colour it, she wondered, or should she just accept it and go grey gracefully?

Slipping on a pair of navy-coloured, low-heeled shoes and gathering up her tan, leather satchel  into which she tossed her phone, wallet and several other essentials, Serena went to leave the room, stopping at the last minute to grab a coat in case it turned chilly. She then headed out of the room, down the stairs and towards the front door, collecting her car keys on the way from on the coffee table where she’d left them the night before.

 “Here we go,” she muttered to herself as she pressed the remote that unlocked her car door. “It’s now or never…the moment of truth,” she added as she tossed her bag and coat onto the passenger seat and climbed in.

Serena pulled out from the curb and pointed her car in the direction of Holby City Hospital. After much deliberation, she’d decided it would be better to face Bernie there rather than at either Bernie’s flat or her own home which would require her to call first to make arrangements. Serena didn’t want their first contact, after so long, to be over the phone. Instead, she’d called Wyvern Wing at Holby City and had spoken to a receptionist who was quite new to the job. Once she’d been through the process of convincing this woman she really was Ms Serena Campbell, co-head of Holby’s AAU on leave, she was able to glean the time of Bernie’s shift for the day. It had cost her a few white lies but it was all for the greater good. Of course, there was always the chance that Bernie would be in theatre rather than on the ward but she would wait for as long as it took.

Serena tried to keep her attention fully-focussed on the road as she drove towards the hospital so as not to let any niggling doubts creep in about what she was going to do but, despite her best efforts, as she pulled into the car park she found herself once more silently reciting the words she wanted to say to Bernie, her mind tuned-in sharply for any possible weaknesses in her arguments or flaws in her plan.

As she gathered her coat and slung her bag over her shoulder, closed the car door and locked it, Serena took a deep, calming breath, renewed her efforts to keep her nervousness in check and worked to assume a positive frame of mind, after all, Bernie loved her and would want to be with her…. she hoped.

oooOooo

Once Bernie and her team had discovered, after the initial surgical exploration, the full extent of Leon’s injuries which included a significant diaphragmatic perforation but, fortunately, no penetration of the pericardium or abdominal complications, they were able to go about the job of repairing the damage.

Just prior to making the first, small incision for the tube through which the laparoscope was to be inserted, Bernie had glanced towards the large observation window which overlooked the theatre and was heartened to see her son standing there watching the proceedings.

He had been greatly put out when she had refused his pleas to allow him into the theatre to observe and assist in some small way. With her mind fully occupied by the urgency of the operation that lay ahead rather than social politeness, Bernie had given his request a flat, no-discussion-will-be-entered-into ‘No’. She knew he wasn’t ready yet for such complex surgery. He could wait his turn like everyone else. There was no way Bernie Wolfe would ever be accused of nepotism, in fact, if anything, the opposite was more likely. Instead, she quipped that he should watch and learn from within the confines of the observation room, a suggestion which appeared to add insult to injury and resulted in him marching off, reminding Bernie of a petulant child, which she had to admit disappointed her. Fortunately, it would seem, he had thought through his actions and decided to take her advice after all.

For the most part, all had gone smoothly during the operation although there had been one very tense moment. The exploratory laparotomy had revealed that the lesion in the diaphragm, albeit a rather serious one, was the only injury. The team had proceeded to repair it but only seconds into this task, the urgent beep of the monitors had alerted them to young Leon’s blood pressure taking a sudden nose-dive. A quick search found that it was the result of a severed capillary which immediately began to bleed out. This could have had serious consequences if not for Bernie’s rapid response in locating the offending blood vessel then judiciously clamping and cauterizing it.

At this moment and at several others during the surgery, Bernie found herself wishing she had Serena working beside her. They had always made a great team in the operating theatre. Each knew they could trust the other implicitly to always be thorough and alert while their combined skills set and experience were unbeatable. The doctor assisting her at present was very capable but, for Bernie’s money and with almost all personal bias aside, there was no other surgeon in the AAU that could hold a candle to Serena Campbell. She couldn’t help but think that if Serena was here, she probably wouldn’t have to waste precious time fixing bleeders.

Finally, after just over three hours, Bernie was satisfied that Leon’s wound had been successfully repaired and that his vital signs were where they should be.

As she assigned the task of closing up the patient as well as the suturing of several of the lacerations on Leon’s hands and forearms to the assisting surgeon and prepared to leave the theatre, she looked over towards the large observation window once again where she had hoped to catch Cameron’s eye and suggest they meet up but he was already gone. Being fully-focussed on the surgery, Bernie couldn’t say at what precise point he had decided to leave. It had been a long, intricate operation and she knew Cam had worked well beyond his shift but, unreasonable as she knew it was, she couldn’t help feeling a little deflated by his absence.

Outside the theatre, Bernie discarded all of her surgical paraphernalia-her gown, the gloves, over-shoes, glasses and finally her cap, shaking her hair free as she removed it. She then tossed each item into its designated bio-hazard bin and went to scrub her hands one more time to remove any remnants of surgery she may have picked up, in spite of all the protective gear.

Once she had scrubbed, Bernie made her way back to the ward in order to leave instructions for the nursing staff as to Leon’s post-operative medication and treatment.

Just as she reached the work station, Bernie heard a voice calling her name.

“Ms Wolfe.”

Bernie looked around.

“I found this on the floor in 24,” Fletch said as he showed Bernie the mobile phone he had picked up from under the bed Leon had been in earlier, “at first, I thought it was Leon’s but it looks familiar. I think it might be Ca…Dr Dunn’s.”

Bernie took the phone from him and inspected it.

“I think you’re right,” Bernie replied, recognising the pattern of crazed glass on the bottom corner of the screen. The phone had been new at the time and Cameron had had it in his pocket when his services were needed to help contain and sedate an aggressive male patient who had spent most of the Friday night taking a cocktail of drugs. As the patient’s arms and legs flailed wildly to avoid restraint, the phone was knocked from Cam’s pocket. Seeing it on the floor, the man had attempted to stomp on it but his heavy boot only caught the corner of the screen.

Like many of the other staff working in the ward that night, Bernie had raced over to assist. Even now, she could recall the look of utter despair on Cameron’s face when he was finally able to rescue his phone and inspect the damage.

“I’ll take care of it and make sure it gets back to him ASAP….it won’t be too long before he discovers it’s missing…it’s impossible these days to go more than five minutes without needing your phone for one thing or another. Thanks, Fletch.”

Following a further brief conversation about Leon’s surgery and his post-op care, Bernie pocketed the phone and left Fletch to attend to his patients while she made for her office.

In civilian hospitals, every operation creates its own mountain of paperwork which Bernie openly admitted was the bane of her life. As an army medic in Afghanistan, she did recognise the importance of explicit record-keeping but, amid the hostilities going on around them, there had been little time for anything like the reams of paperwork that she now faced. She had also learned that procrastination didn’t make it go away so she’d decided to make a start on it immediately while she waited for Leon to be wheeled out of surgery and back onto the ward.

She had been on her feet for hours now so it was with great relief that she flopped into her office chair and elevated her weary legs by resting them on the desktop. As she did so, Bernie couldn’t help but peer across to the empty desk opposite her. Despite the passing of nearly six months, she was still caught out at times by not seeing Serena sitting there or, indeed, any sign that she had ever been there at all. Serena was gone as were all her possessions. All Bernie had of her were memories and even they were beginning to wear thin.

Even though in some ways they were polar opposites…for instance, Bernie was not the tidiest of people whereas Serena insisted that their office be kept in an orderly fashion at all times...they had been extremely compatible when it came to working together to create the phenomenon that was Holby’s AAU. Each listened to the other’s ideas and let them play to their strengths while they both had an intrinsic instinct for taking over the reins when it was needed. Today, the unit ran like a well-oiled machine.

Establishing the AAU with Serena had been an enjoyable and rewarding time in her life, one where she had been able to put to good use the knowledge and skills she had gained from her army experience. She had even learned new skills including how to be much tidier when it came to sharing an office, although it didn’t come naturally.

Before Serena left, Bernie had envisioned herself working here well into the foreseeable future. Without Serena, she wasn’t so sure anymore. At the back of her mind she was vaguely aware of a creeping discontent.

“Where was Serena now?” Bernie wondered to herself, “What was she doing? How was she coping? Was she even thinking about her and what about their relationship?”

A sharp rap on the open door startled Bernie from her daydreaming. She rapidly took her feet off the desk and sat more upright in her seat then looked over to see Alex leaning against the door jamb.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Oh. Hi, Alex…No…Come in,” Bernie said as she indicated towards the empty chair where Serena had once sat.

“Are you alright?” Alex asked, casually waving away the offer, preferring to stay where she was.

“I’m fine…. a bit drained, that’s all…I’ve just come out of a long surgery.”

“How did it go?”

“Apart from one small glitch which we managed to fix, the patient is expected to make a quick and full recovery.”

Bernie stretched her legs and her back and raked her hands through her blonde hair.

“Stab wound to the chest…Diaphragmatic perforation,” she added, predicting Alex’s next question.

As Bernie took in Alex’s presence, she couldn’t help but notice, once again, how fabulous she looked. She’d exchanged her hospital garb for a pair of tight-fitting, black jeans, a loose, black T-shirt with some sort of spangly motif on it that Bernie couldn’t make out and a pair of black, lace-up ankle-boots. In one hand she held a black, leather jacket while, with the other, she tucked some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear revealing a small but unmissable diamond stud.  Whereas before her hair had been constrained in an untidy ponytail, now it hung free in its usual, longish bob.

 When they had been together in Afghanistan, their days had consisted of long, erratic work hours which were both physically and mentally demanding. They ate when they weren’t too tired to but the food, while edible, was not of the kind where you went back for second helpings, resulting in them both becoming as thin as rakes. Now, back in civilian life and with a little extra weight on her, Alex’s features had softened slightly. Her cheeks were less hollow and her chin less pointed; her hips and shoulders were less sharp. In short, Bernie thought she looked absolutely terrific, a picture of good health.

“Oh. Right. Tricky,” Alex said, unaware of Bernie’s attentions.

“Not as tricky as it could have been,” Bernie replied, putting those thoughts aside, “an exploratory laparotomy found none of the usual intra-abdominal injuries or damage to the pericardium that often goes with such a trauma…just the one lesion to the diaphragm.”

“Considering how much worse it could have been, it sounds like he was one lucky lad….and, of course, he had you working on him.”

Bernie smiled her acknowledgement of the compliment being paid.

“I was wondering if, when you’re done, you’d like to go for that drink we talked about?” Alex suggested a little tentatively.

 Bernie hesitated. Her usual response these days to such invitations was to make an excuse, usually work or tiredness, and beg off. It wasn’t the same without Serena. However, Bernie was reluctantly coming to terms with the fact that Serena may never come back and that she should consider getting on with her life. _I might as well start now, she said to herself, besides, this was Alex asking._ Alex had always been easy to talk to and they had considerable catching up to do.

“Sure. Why not?” Bernie replied, “give me thirty minutes…forty-five max….to check on my patient and change my clothes…I’ll meet you at Albie’s.”

“I walk after an hour,” Alex warned, only half-jokingly.

“Fair enough…but I’ll be there.”

Satisfied that Bernie would be true to her word, Alex slung her jacket over her shoulder, gave a small wave and a ‘see you there’ before heading off down the corridor.

Alone in her office once more, Bernie glanced up to the clock on the wall and calculated that Leon should be out of theatre and in the ward by now.

So much for starting on the record-keeping, she thought as she pushed back her chair, grabbed Cam’s phone from atop her desk and put it in her pocket then made her way back into the ward.

Bernie found Leon back in bed 24. While he was still sleeping off the effects of the anaesthetic, she carefully inspected each of his sutured wounds.  Next, she ran a careful eye over the readings emanating from the computers monitoring her patient’s vital signs as well as his input and output levels. She then issued instructions to the nursing staff concerning Leon’s care and medication for the next twelve hours with strict instructions to contact her immediately if there was any deterioration in his condition.

Eventually, content that she had done all she could for now and that he was in capable hands, Bernie headed towards the small room at the back of the ward where the lockers for the interns and other staff that didn’t warrant their own office were located. She would put Cam’s phone in his locker so he would find it when he started his shift in the morning.

Tall, metal lockers lined both sides of the room with two more banks of the same down the centre, back to back, dividing the room in halves. A long, wooden bench ran down the middle of each aisle. Bernie walked slowly down along each bank perusing the names until she came to the locker with the name ‘Dr C. Dunn’ on the sticker. Her next problem, however, was how to unlock it. She pondered the combination lock that secured the door for a moment. Could Cam be that predictable? She turned the numbers until they displayed the first four digits in his birth date then tugged lightly on the lock. No luck. She tried the last four digits and to her surprise, the shackle released, opening the lock.

Smiling to herself, partly at her own cleverness and partly at her son’s lack of imagination, Bernie removed the lock and opened the long, metal door. The smile was soon wiped from her face.

 Inside the locker there was a lower section that held only a spare pair of runners and a sports bag. At eye level there was a shelf that held a few, personal hygiene items…a brush, aftershave and a bottle of breath freshener.  Very noticeable among those few items, was a small, clear ziplock bag which her eye was quick to spot.

She picked up the bag and removed it from the locker with the same reluctance with which one might handle an explosive device. On close inspection, she could see clearly the white, crystal-like contents was most likely ‘Ice’…about 5gms, she guessed. What the hell was her son doing with illicit drugs in his locker...or anywhere else for that matter? Bernie’s heart sank.

She knew Cam had dabbled with drugs several years ago but it had never been with something as dangerous and addictive as ‘Ice’. She thought that he had worked through that phase of his life. What did he think he was doing, risking his entire future as a doctor by taking drugs and keeping it in his locker at the hospital of all places? It didn’t make sense. Her son wasn’t that stupid, was he? Surely, she would have some kind of inkling if he was using drugs.

When he’d first experimented with them, she’d been away in Afghanistan and couldn’t be expected to know but now she saw him virtually every day but she hadn’t noticed any obvious signs…or were they there and she had just missed them?

If she had even the slightest clue as to where Cam might be at the moment, she would have marched off and confronted him about it but, unfortunately, she had no idea. All she knew was that he was probably with the most recent ‘love-of-his-life’, Saskia, but as to where they were…well, they could be almost anywhere. She couldn’t even phone him because she had his phone in her pocket. That thought reminded her as to why she was here.

Resolving not to think the worst of her son until she’d given him a chance to explain, Bernie placed the plastic bag back on the shelf and was about to close the locker when she had a thought. She opened the camera function on Cam’s phone and, without being a hundred percent sure why she did it but sensed somehow that she should, she took a photo of the plastic bag. Bernie then sent the photo to her own phone and deleted it from her son’s before putting it on the shelf, shutting the door and reattaching the lock. She would deal with it first thing in the morning. For now, there was nothing else she could do.

As she walked from the room, her hands deep in her pockets and her mind still puzzling over the problem, Bernie suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be meeting Alex at Albie’s. A quick look at a nearby clock told her she had fifteen minutes before Alex up and walked out. Bernie quickened her pace.

oooOooo


	3. Chapter 3

 

Bernie rushed into Albie’s with only minutes to spare but she needn’t have worried. Alex was settled in at a table near the far wall and, apart from the fact that her attention was completely absorbed by her phone, her back was also to the door so she didn’t notice Bernie’s entrance. There was a fresh drink in front of her and an empty tumbler pushed aside. Bernie wasn’t too sure whether it meant Alex was on her second drink or that she’d had company.

Leaving Alex to her messaging for the moment, Bernie went up to the bar and ordered herself a white wine. As she waited for her drink, a wave of self-consciousness swept over her. It may have been over two years since they had seen each other but it was difficult to forget that they had once been in a relationship. Although they hadn’t been together for very long in comparative terms, their time as a couple had been very intense and not one easily forgotten. _What was the acceptable etiquette for having a social drink with someone you have slept with in some of the most God-forsaken hellholes on Earth, Bernie pondered, someone whose body and mind you had once known as intimately as your own?_

Once her wine had arrived, Bernie paid for it and took it over to where Alex was sitting, still engrossed in her communications, her thumbs busily tapping out words across the screen. It wasn’t until Bernie put her drink down on the table and pulled out a chair that Alex became aware of her presence and dragged her attention away from her phone which she immediately pocketed as she gave a cheerful, ‘Hi’.

Bernie replied with an equally cheerful, “Hello…. Sorry I took so long.”

“I’m just glad you made it at all, to be honest.”

“Me too,” Bernie replied as she raised her glass, “Cheers.”

After a light chink of glasses, they both took a long sip of their respective drinks.

“How’s your patient?” Alex asked, breaking the ice.

“He’s good,” Bernie replied, “he should make a quick recovery and be home in a few days.”

Bernie went on to describe the surgery in further detail while Alex listened intently, asking one or two relevant questions when it seemed like there might be a lull in the conversation.

Their work was safe territory for discussion and both women were hesitant to veer away from it for the moment.

As Bernie finished her recount, Alex drained the last of the Scotch from her glass then indicated that she was going to the bar for another.

“I hope you’re not driving home,” Bernie said as she pointed to the other empty glass on the table.

“Oh, that’s not mine,” Alex replied, “one of the new surgeons was here and he insisted on buying me a drink. He stayed for a while but disappeared disturbingly quickly when he realised he wasn’t in with a chance…..Do you want another?”

Bernie shook her head. The bar staff here were generous and she’d drunk less than half of her wine.

Alone at the table, Bernie’s problem with Cam crept back into her thoughts. She was staring blankly at her wine glass, slowly twirling its stem, preoccupied with working out what to do, when Alex returned.

Fearing that Bernie was still upset with the way they had left things all those months ago, Alex asked cautiously, “Is there something wrong?”

Snapping out of her daze, Bernie looked over at Alex and gave her an unconvincing smile. If Serena had been there, she would have confided in her about her troubles with Cam but she couldn’t with Alex. They had moved on from that kind of intimacy.

“Sorry…No…I’m fine…It’s been a long day, that’s all,” she replied and, in case Alex decided to probe further, Bernie asked, “Who’s this Thomas, the Maker of the Many Sandwiches you mentioned this morning? Don’t tell me you’ve jumped ‘the fence’.”

Alex’s entire face lit up with a broad grin.

oooOooo

Serena walked through the entrance to Wyvern Wing just as she had done on hundreds of occasions previously but this time her steps were more tentative ones. Her eyes darted around the busy reception area not wanting to but expecting to see at least one or two familiar hospital personnel who might wish to stop and chat, maybe ask how she was, but there were none. Appearance-wise, nothing about the hospital had changed. As always, staff darted purposefully hither and thither as they carried out their duties. Many were caught up in fathoming clinical dilemmas or delivering test results so others could fathom them. Nobody afforded her any more than a cursory glance. Nobody automatically stepped out of their way in recognition that someone of standing within Holby’s higher ranks was coming through. In other words, life was continuing on as usual at Holby City Hospital with or without her.

Serena wasn’t sure what exactly she had expected but it unnerved her to note how much like a stranger she felt once she’d walked through those doors. After all, Holby was the place where she had devoted almost her entire career with many of those years stained in her blood, sweat and tears.

Although she would be the first to admit that she was ambitious, the betterment of the hospital and providing the best care for the patients was always at the heart of everything she did. She had continually endeavoured to improve her own surgical proficiency and knowledge as well as pass it on to others. Rather than relying on someone else to act when she could see how procedures within the hospital could be made more effective, she had taken it upon herself to do so. Her initiative and skills eventually being rewarded with a place amid the higher echelons of the hospital. It still annoyed her at times that she had often been considered pushy and officious, traits which, in a male counter-part were seen as competency and professionalism. She was also well-aware that she had had to work twice as hard to earn the respect of her peers as well as her position of standing within the hospital but here she was now with all sense of belonging completely abandoning her and, as unsettling as that feeling was, it also served to convince her that the change that she was about to make to her life was the right thing to do. She had her fingers crossed that Bernie would think so too.

Apart from deciding that she wanted their first conversation to be in person, preferring to find Bernie at the hospital rather than phone her to arrange a meeting, Serena realised as she approached the AAU, that beyond that, she didn’t have any real plan. In her mind, foolishly perhaps, she had imagined that Bernie would be there waiting for her but, of course, she wasn’t.

On any other occasion, after an absence, Serena would have been glad to enter the general mêlée of what had been her unit and to catch up with those colleagues she hadn’t seen for so long but today she only wanted to see Bernie…it had to be her and her alone.

As inconspicuously as possible, she made her way along the corridor that lead to the ward but, at the last minute, she made a detour in the direction of their …. Bernie’s … office. To her disappointment, she was greeted by an empty room.

She had been about to move on and search elsewhere when, instead, she found herself draw into the room where she and Bernie had spent many hours working together. _Was there anything here that would make her think twice about her decision? … Not that she hadn’t had second, third and even fourth thoughts about it already._

Instinctively, she went over to what had once been her desk. It was as she had left it, bare and indistinguishable from any other piece of office furniture in this and every other hospital.  No one had used it since her departure. No one had been assigned to replace her. Bernie was running the show on her own now which, Serena conceded, she was perfectly capable of doing. They had made a great team here at Holby. _Could they do it once more?_

Serena sat in her old chair and peered around the room. It should have stirred fond memories but somehow it felt wrong. All this was the past, from a life when her daughter, Elinor, was still alive. With her daughter’s death, an event that shook Serena to her very core, came the gradual re-evaluation of her priorities. It was as though a line had been drawn under her previous life and there was no returning as there was nothing she could do to bring Elinor back, she was gone for good as was Serena’s future at Holby. That was her old life. It was time to start afresh.

With an unsettling sense of disquiet, Serena pushed back the chair and went around to Bernie’s desk where she was unable to resist the urge to straighten the untidy heap of files that sat on it as well as put several stray pens back in their holder. Her attention was then caught by two small, framed photos sitting beside the computer monitor. The first was a photo of Bernie posed with her two children. Bernie sat on a wooden garden bench nursing a days-old Cameron in her arms while Charlotte stood beside her, her hands resting on Bernie’s knee and her eyes firmly fixed on her baby brother. Serena fought back the lump that was forming in her throat as she was reminded of a similar photo she had which was taken only a day or two after she had brought Elinor home from the hospital.

In contrast, Serena then found herself laughing softly as she picked up the other photo for closer perusal. It was a head and shoulders shot of herself and Bernie that had been taken with Bernie’s phone.

On a whim, they had ventured out for dinner one evening…before life had taken such a drastic turn for them both….and enjoyed a fabulous meal and one or two glasses too many of Tempranillo at a small, unpretentious Spanish restaurant they’d stumbled across. Bernie, who is normally quite shy of the camera, had been the one to suggest taking the ‘selfie’ and Serena had willingly obliged.

 In it, their cheeks were pressed close and their heads were tilting slightly upwards as they looked towards the phone that Bernie was holding aloft at arm’s length. Their happiness and the fact that they were possibly a little bit tipsy was evident from their beaming smiles and flushed faces. Bernie had obviously decided to have it printed out and then placed it in the simple, silver frame.

Serena chose to interpret the fact that Bernie still had the photo on her desk as a positive sign, a sign that served to urge her on with her mission as she replaced it back on the desk, taking care to leave it exactly as she’d found it.

Determined to find Bernie, she decided to bite the bullet and make her presence known out in the ward and, with any luck, a friendly face might be able to tell her where she was hiding out. However, Serena only made it as far as the doorway when the one person she might have hoped for (other than Bernie, herself) walked past. She called out to him.

Nurse Adrian Fletcher stopped in his tracks, confused by the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard for months. He turned towards its source.

“Wow! Ms Campbell! I wasn’t expecting to see _you_ here today…or any day for that matter.”

Deciding after a slight hesitation that it would be appropriate, he stepped forward and drew her into a friendly embrace which Serena returned.

“How are you doing?” he asked as he released her.

“Oh, getting there slowly but surely,” Serena answered vaguely. She wasn’t here this time to get into a discussion.

“It’s fantastic to see you,” Fletch went on enthusiastically. “Are you back to stay? The place hasn’t been quite the same without you…Don’t get me wrong. Ms Wolfe is doing an excellent job but…you know how it is…we miss you.”

“Thank you, Fletch, but I doubt very much if anyone would miss my angry rants but no, I’m only visiting,” Serena said before subtly throwing in, “speaking of Ms Wolfe…Any idea where I might find her?”

Fletch took what seemed like, to Serena, an interminable amount of time to come up with a response.

“I was with her when she was checking on Leon in 24,” he replied, thinking aloud, “but I think she mentioned something about going over to Albie’s…but I can’t swear to it.”

“Albie’s. Right. That might the place to try then…Thanks, Fletch. It was good to see you. I’d better let you get back to your patients.”

Serena placed an unexpected peck on Fletch’s cheek by way of an apology for not staying to chat before hurriedly exiting the office and retracing her steps to the hospital entrance.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

“Berenice Wolfe, you of all people, should know that there isn’t a fence built low enough that would make me want to jump it,” Alex responded with a look of mock-indignation followed by a cheeky wink which Bernie wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. “Thomas happens to be a 19-year-old boy…man…man-boy…who lives with me,” she revealed.

An intrigued Bernie gave her quizzical look which suggested she divulge further.

“And he also happens to be the son of my partner …. Elspeth.”

Alex held her breath, not quite knowing how Bernie would react to the news. She certainly didn’t feel in need of Bernie’s approval but she hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise.

“Ah…now things are beginning to make more sense,” Bernie said with a grin, “details, please.”

Relieved that Bernie seemed genuinely okay with the matter, Alex went on to explain, “We met a wee bit over a year ago at a music festival in Glasgow…. I know it’s a well-worn cliché but it was pretty much love at first sight.” Alex could feel a flush of red fill her cheeks at this admission. “We rent a house together in Wyvern ….to be near the hospital… Thomas, her son, lives with us.””

“Making the sandwiches?”

“Yes,” Alex laughed, “at least, for the moment. He’s off to Oxford in a few weeks…then, I’ll have to make my own sandwiches.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Bernie teased.

“Probably not…It’ll be back to cafeteria lunches for me, I suspect.”

There was a brief lull as both women took a sip of their drink, using the time to grasp the full impact of the conversation, that is, Bernie realising that Alex had definitely moved on and found love again and Alex finding relief that she had finally told Bernie.

“I’m really happy for you,” Bernie said as she placed her wine glass back on its coaster.

“Actually, we’re planning to move back to Scotland…Edinburgh, most likely.”

“Soon?”

“Once Thomas has moved out and my contract at Holby is up….in about three months.”  Alex hesitated for a moment before adding, “Just after Elspeth and I are married.”

Bernie, who had her wine glass half-way to her lips, placed it back on the table and looked over at Alex in stunned surprise.

“Married?”

Alex nodded.

 It had never crossed Bernie’s mind that Alex would one day choose to marry. She pushed back her chair, stood and took a step towards where Alex was sitting. With a wide smile, she hauled Alex to her feet, wrapped her arms around her and gave her an enormous hug.

“That is such wonderful news,” she whispered into Alex’s ear as they embraced, “this Elspeth is a very lucky woman.”

“You’ll come to the wedding?” Alex asked as she held on tight, not wanting to let go until she was sure she could hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

“With pleasure…. try and stop me,” Bernie replied, pulling back a little so she could place a kiss on Alex’s cheek.

It was as this scene played out, that Serena made her way into the little bar that was Albie’s.

With few other patrons present, it was impossible for Serena not to catch sight of the two women standing there, locked in an embrace, Bernie kissing the other woman’s cheek. Without thinking and not knowing what else to do, Serena promptly turned and made for the door she had only just entered, hoping she had managed to escape before being seen.

As she did, she could feel her chest tightening as though every breath of the air was being squeezed out of her. At the same time, an ire rose up within her, filling the vacuum and threatening to boil over into angry tears, however, it wasn’t Bernie she was angry with. She was angry with herself. Angry for being naive enough to expect that, after all these months, Bernie would still be waiting for her. Angry that she had allowed herself to be too consumed by her world of grief to keep in contact with the woman she loved, the only person who was capable of shining a light in her darkness, and, not for the first time, she was angry with her daughter. Serena knew it was nonsensical, perhaps even selfish, but she found herself asking how Elinor could just leave her like that, turning her entire world so completely upside down.

Now, on top of all the other losses that she’d had to contend with…her daughter, her job, even, at her lowest point, her will to rise out of bed each morning and actively participate in life …it appeared, she had lost Bernie, something she hadn’t seriously contemplated even though she knew it could happen.

Hot tears began to spill down her cheeks but she swiped them away savagely as pushed open the door and stepped out into the carpark.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bernie had caught sight of the familiar figure rushing from the bar. She instantly released Alex and called out, “Serena?”

When the woman didn’t stop, Bernie gave a bewildered Alex a quick ‘excuse me’ and took off after her.

 As Bernie raced towards the door, it did cross her mind that, after all this time, it was probably just her imagination conjuring up the likeness and she was about to make a huge fool of herself in front of a perfect stranger, nevertheless, it was preferable to the alternative of not finding out for sure and risk allowing the real Serena to walk away.

As Bernie pulled open the door, her heart took an extra leap. Her mind hadn’t been playing tricks after all. Standing on the footpath with her head in her hands was Serena.

“Serena,” Bernie said softly as she approached.

She half-expected the woman to ignore her and walk off but instead, she lifted her head and gave Bernie a weak smile.

“Serena,” Bernie repeated. This time it was almost a whisper as she was having trouble believing that Serena was actually there, right in front of her within easy reach.

Her first instinct was to draw her into her arms and kiss her but an uncertainty as to whether she would welcome such a display of affection after all this time held her back.

 “It’s so good to see you … I … I …don’t know what to say,” Bernie stammered, “how…how are you?”

“I’m well,” Serena replied, although it was quite clear to Bernie that at the moment it wasn’t the exact truth.

 “What are you doing here… at Albie’s?” Realising how brusque her question sounded, Bernie quickly added, “I mean, come in…let me buy you a drink.”

“No…it’s fine. I’ll go. I can see you already have company…I don’t want to crash your party.”

The sight of Bernie in the arms of another woman had all but extinguished Serena’s initial excitement of seeing her again. All she wanted to do was to leave without embarrassing herself any further.

“It’s only Alex…. She’d love to meet you.”

Serena dropped her eyes to the ground as the tears threatened to flow once more. She searched fruitlessly in her pocket for a tissue.

In the absence of a response, Bernie asked, “Is everything alright?”

Serena nodded, keeping her eyes averted. The last thing she wanted was for Bernie to see her crying and feel sorry for her.

Confused by Serena’s reluctance to join her and desperate for her not to leave, Bernie tried again.

“Come in with me. We’re about to have a celebratory drink.”

The absolutely last thing Serena felt like doing was celebrating.

“No…I don’t think so… thanks for asking… there’s things I have to do, places I have to go,” she replied, managing to find some composure.

Bernie was close to begging Serena to stay or offering to go with her to wherever it was she needed to go, when it suddenly struck her. Had Serena seen her hugging Alex? Surely she didn’t read that to mean there was something more than friendship between them, did she?

“Serena, look at me,” Bernie said tenderly as she moved closer and crooked a finger under Serena’s chin, tilting it upwards until their eyes met. “I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick...You’re not thinking that there’s anything between Alex and me other than friendship, are you?”

Serena said nothing but the from the flush of pink that immediately rushed to her cheeks, it was evident that that was exactly what she was thinking.

“You’ve misunderstood,” Bernie explained, “that ship has well and truly sailed. You know that. What you saw was me congratulating Alex on her impending marriage to her partner, Elspeth.”

There were a few beats of silence while Serena processed this information.

“So you’re not with….?”

“I’m not with Alex…No. Or anyone else for that matter…I promised you I would wait for you for as long as it took…so this is me waiting.” Wanting to ease Serena’s obvious embarrassment, Bernie added, “And speaking of waiting, Alex is going to think I’ve deserted her. Why don’t you come in and help us celebrate?”

Filled with a sense of relief, Serena took the hand Bernie offered and followed her into Albie’s where they found Alex sitting where Bernie had left her, absorbed once more in messaging on her phone.

Rather than head straight for the table, Bernie took a detour to the bar where she ordered a bottle of champagne and three champagne flutes.

“Alex, I would like you to meet a friend of mine,” Bernie said as she placed the glasses on the table and began to tussle with the cork of the champagne bottle.

Alex drew her attention away from her phone, placing it, face down, on the table and looked up at their unexpected guest.

“Alex, this is Ms Serena Campbell, surgeon extraordinaire, my co-lead at Holby’s AAU….and a close personal friend.”

Alex couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow in Bernie’s direction. Even just seeing them together for only those few seconds was enough for Alex to pick up that there was more to it than friendship, however, Bernie chose to ignore her gesture.

“Serena, this is Alex Dawson. We were attached to the same unit of the Royal Medical Corps.”

Who Alex Dawson was needed no explaining. Not long after Bernie had begun working at Holby, she had been publicly outed by one of her patients. Shocked by the revelation, Serena, who thought she’d found a true friend in Bernie, had made it abundantly clear that she was disappointed in her for being less than honest, even if it was by omission. It wasn’t the fact that Bernie had had an extra-marital affair or that it was with a woman that had hurt Serena but rather, the fact that she had trusted Bernie with her own personal confidences but Bernie hadn’t seen fit to reciprocate, making her feel quite foolish. If there was one thing Serena Campbell hated, it was being made to look a fool.

Of all the accusations that were being hurled at her at the time by the various people in her life whom she had inadvertently hurt by following her heart… her husband, Alex, her children…it was this wound that cut Bernie the deepest and it was the one she was most desperate to mend. In order to show she was deserving of Serena’s trust, she had insisted that she be given the opportunity to repay the candour by telling the whole story of her relationship with Alex.

It was good to be able to put a face to that name at last, Serena thought as she reached out and shook Alex’s hand.

“Congratulations on your impending nuptials.”

“Wow. Word really does travel fast around here!” Alex laughed, “Thank you.”

As Serena pulled out a seat, Bernie finally won her struggle with the cork as it popped free from the bottle neck, releasing a gush of champagne which she artfully captured in the waiting glasses.

“May your life be full of wedded bliss,” Bernie said merrily as she raised her glass to be joined by the others, “Cheers.”

With Serena here by her side, Bernie’s other concerns, specifically the ones about her son, Cameron, were swept aside, if only for the time being.

“Bernie said you work with her in the AAU…I’ve just started a short contract up in Darwin…maybe we’ll see each other around,” Alex said as she placed her champagne glass back on the table after taking a small mouthful.

Serena gave what Alex thought was a slightly nervous smile.

“What Bernie meant to say was that I used to work in AAU.”

“You left?”

Serena hesitated. She always dreaded these conversations where she was expected to explain why a surgeon of her ability and position had just walked away from the job. Bernie sat beside her, looking on anxiously and wondering whether or not to intervene.

“My daughter, Elinor, died at Holby almost six months ago…I took some time off to get my head around things.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright. You weren’t to know and I’m becoming much better at dealing with it these days.”

Bernie could see that both women were struggling on this delicate ground and attempted to salvage the situation with a complete change of subject.

“When exactly is this wedding of yours happening? Do I have time to find the perfect gift and get fitted for a new suit?”

“June 22nd,” Alex replied, grateful for the diversion, “so mark it on your calendar…and you too, Serena. The more the merrier as the saying goes. No need for a gift and it’s not a formal affair so you won’t be needing a new outfit, Bernie.”

Alex’s phone then gave a timely buzz. She turned it over and noted the caller.

“I’ve got to take this,” she said as she skolled the remainder of her champagne.

Bernie picked up the champagne bottle and indicated to Alex that she would pour her a fresh drink if she wanted but Alex shook her head as she moved out of earshot.

“Would you like a top-up?” Bernie asked Serena, noting that her glass was half empty.

“I’d better not,” Serena answered, “I tend not to drink much alcohol these days. Another glass will go straight to my head and I might to do something ridiculous...It’s been known to happen.”

What Serena was actually fearful of was losing the rein on her willpower and giving in to her strong desire to take Bernie in her arms and kiss her to within an inch of her life.

Bernie looked at Serena with stunned surprise.

“Ah! I knew it was too good to be true. Who are you and what have you done with the real Serena Campbell?” I’ll warn you, you had better not have harmed her or you’ll have me to deal with and I’ve been in the army, you know. I happen to know 13 different ways to kill you with my bare hands.”

For the first time in a long time, Serena laughed out loud and she couldn’t help but be conscious of how good it felt. Bernie, too, experienced an odd sense of pleasure at having called it to life.

 “I can assure you, I am the one and only, original Serena Campbell so there will be no need for violence, Ms Wolfe,” Serena played back.

“But how can I really be sure? Tell me something only the real Serena Campbell would know.”

Serena thought for a moment.

“You have a scar right here,” Serena replied, running her finger lightly across Bernie’s stomach sending tiny, electric-like shocks through both of them. “From a low transverse Caesarean-section …of course, I may not be the _only_ woman who knows that fact but only the real Serena would…I can’t imagine any cheap imitation having that kind of knowledge.”

“True. Alright, you pass,” Bernie conceded as she grasped the finger Serena had used to trace her scar and lightly kissed the tip before Serena, with some reluctance, reclaimed it.

“I became too reliant on alcohol to dull the pain of Elinor’s death,” Serena went on to explain more seriously, “and I was drinking far too much, regularly passing out on my bed in an intoxicated shamble, my dark thoughts put to rest by my falling into an inebriated coma…I had to ease up if I was ever going to deal with my grief rather than simply drown it. It was easier to give up completely than to tipple.” Holding up her glass of champagne, she added, “This is the first drop of alcohol I’ve had in months…It was hard at first, not drinking…very hard…but I’ve managed and I can honestly say that I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would.”

“You don’t have to drink that if it’s best you don’t,” Bernie replied, conscious of the fact that she had just assumed Serena would have a glass of champagne.

“It’s fine…It’s all under control. A glass every now and again won’t hurt and it’s a special occasion…I haven’t reached the point of no return.”

“And how are you coping at the moment with everything that’s happened?” Bernie asked, her tone now one of concern, “tell me truthfully.”

 “Truthfully...I still have the occasional bad days but I have many more good days…I go to counselling sessions when I need to but I try to keep my mind occupied so I don’t have time to dwell on it too much.”

Serena paused to take a sip of her champagne.

“By the way, I couldn’t help but notice that when you introduced me to Alex, that I’ve been demoted to the position of ‘friend’,” she added.

“‘ _Close, personal friend’_ ,” Bernie corrected, “after all this time, I wasn’t sure what to say…I’d hate to make assumptions so I thought that covered it sufficiently until I was informed otherwise.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Serena said, “I think we need to talk,” adding a small smile in the hope of reassuring Bernie that it possibly wasn’t the bad news she might be expecting.

“I agree,” Bernie replied.

“Not here…. My place?”

“As good as any, I guess.”

Out of habit, Bernie was already preparing herself for the worse.

They hastily finished the last of the champagne from their glasses, stood up from the table then, collecting their bags and coats, exited to the carpark and their cars, leaving half a bottle of champagne still sitting on the table.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only a short chapter but more should follow soon.

 

Chapter 5. Bernie and Serena

The main street of Wyvern was unusually busy for a week night and navigating it required Serena’s full attention. It tested her patience to its limits that she had managed to snag four red lights in a row in the space of only a few hundred metres as she was reduced to driving at a snail’s pace along the High Street.  Every minute or so, every change of lane, every turn, she would find herself checking the rear vision mirror to make sure Bernie’s car was still in sight.

It wasn’t until she reached the quieter, leafier streets closer to her home, that Serena could relax her attention to the road enough to attempt to formulate a plan as to how she would break her news to Bernie. She’d run over what it was she had to say at least a hundred times since the day she’d decided she was ready to speak to Bernie but now it was more the how and where she was unsure of.

_In true English fashion, she’d put the kettle on and make them each a cup of tea…perhaps she’d also put out some cake…Did she even have any cake?... then they would sit at the dining table, Serena thought to herself…Or would the living room be more suitable?...and she’d explain to Bernie in detail what she had been doing these past months until her plan was gradually revealed...or would it be better to just come straight out with it…no beating around the bush? Bernie would either like her plan or not but the suspense would be over and she would know whether or not she was going to have to go it alone._

Serena was well aware that she was over-thinking the situation…the words would come when she needed them and she would deal with the outcome, one way or another… but in her current nervous state, she couldn’t help it.

Bernie, too, had a constant stream of thoughts running through her head as she kept Serena’s VW in her line of vision. There had been a distinctly ominous tone to her words when Serena had suggested they needed to talk. In her excitement at seeing Serena after all these months, along with the relief of knowing that she seemed well, Bernie had unconsciously assumed that the hiatus was over and that they might pick up from where they had left off.  _Were her hopes up too high, too soon?_

While she tried to push to one side her worry about what it was Serena had to tell her, the other matter of concern in her life had crept in to fill the void. _What was her son doing with an illegal drug stashed in his locker? Was he really back to using or, equally as concerning, was he selling it to others?_ Bernie couldn’t see how either option could be true. She had watched with a certain amount of maternal pride as Cameron had matured in recent years and put himself back on track. He had a girlfriend that he was very keen on and a promising medical career. She couldn’t imagine him putting all of that on the line. There had to be another explanation but she was clueless as to what it could be. What she was sure of, however, was her complete disappointment if her worst fears were confirmed.

_First things first, she reminded herself as she turned on the windscreen wipers. A light rain had begun to fall._

By the time Bernie pulled into the curb and parked behind Serena’s car, the rain was falling more heavily. Holding her coat up over her head as protection, she hurried up the front path to the doorstep where both women huddled under the small awning while Serena rummaged through her handbag in search of her house keys.

Finally remembering that she had put them in the zippered front compartment, Serena retrieved them and attempted to unlock the door only to find that, much to her embarrassment, she had suddenly become all thumbs. It didn’t help that Bernie was standing so close behind her… close enough that she could feel the light press of her body…close enough that she could inhale the intoxicating scent of Bernie’s perfume…the one she’d given her as a gift all those months ago and now took a certain satisfaction in discovering she was still wearing it.

“Would you like me to give it a try?” Bernie offered.

“No, thank you…I am quite capable of unlocking my own door,” Serena unintentionally snapped in an effort to cover a growing sense that she was beginning to lose her way. She had been telling herself for weeks that she would be perfectly able to pull up sticks and move continents in order to carry out her project regardless of whether Ms Berenice Wolfe decided to join her or not but now, with the woman standing there in the flesh, only a short breath away, any confidence she had built up was rapidly being eroded away. “There seems to be something wrong with the…ah, there we go.”

Serena opened the door with a flourish and stepped aside to allow her guest to enter the small hallway first before following close behind. Inside, she relieved Bernie of her coat and bag and hung them, along with her own, on the pegs behind the door to the small utility room off from the hall.

Free of their chattels, Serena turned to Bernie with the intention of asking her if she wanted a cup of tea but the words seemed to catch in her throat as she found herself suddenly mesmerised by the reality of Bernie’s presence…here she was standing in front of her, all flesh and form, looking at her with those dark eyes and that mouth turned up in a crooked half-smile. Serena became acutely aware of the fact that they were now completely alone and it was creating a stir in her that she hadn’t felt for a very long time.

“Would you like a cup of tea…and cake if I can find some?” she finally managed to ask.

Bernie moved in a step closer and brushed aside a stray strand of Serena’s fringe that the rain had plastered to her forehead.

Afraid that Bernie might read her thoughts at that very moment, Serena dropped her eyes only to find their attention caught by the sight of the fabric of Bernie’s blouse, made almost transparent by the rain, clinging to her breasts.

“That would be lovel…” 

Bernie’s reply was cut short, surprised as she was by the unexpected touch of Serena’s lips pressed firmly against her own in a much longed-for kiss.

“Sorry,” Serena said breathlessly as their lips finally parted, “I didn’t mean…”

“Are you kidding…I’ve been wanting to do that since I caught up with you in Albie’s carpark.”

“Really?”

As confirmation, Bernie drew Serena more closely into her arms and their lips met once more in a kiss that began as urgent but in another moment became deep and languid kiss; a kiss which seemed to melt away the months they had been apart, leaving neither woman in doubt as to how the other felt.

Eventually, they pulled apart, breathing hard and their pulses racing.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” Serena confessed as she shut her eyes and rested her forehead on Bernie’s shoulder. Bernie lifted a hand and stroked Serena’s hair, lightly kissing the top of her head.

“I’ve missed you too…More than anything, I’ve wanted to know how you were and if you were alright. I’ve wished that I could help. …but you weren’t answering my calls or any of my messages.”

Serena raised her head and their eyes met.

“There was nothing you could have done,” she said in a soulful whisper, “it was something I had to find the courage to get through on my own.”

Incongruously, a smile broke out across Serena’s face as she took in Bernie’s rain-bedraggled appearance.

“You look…you look beautiful.”

Bernie thanked her for the compliment with a soft nip to the tip of her nose then, for no reason other than the sheer joy of being together at that moment, they broke into a light-hearted laugh.

“I love you,” Bernie suddenly whispered as much to her own surprise as Serena’s. She had intended to keep that proclamation under wraps until she knew Serena’s intentions as to their relationship.

The effect of those words spread like ripples on water though Serena’s entire body culminating in a familiar, physical stirring.

“And I love you,” she replied, thinking to herself that those words had never been truer than they were right now. Her eyes then lit up, giving her face a more brazen expression as she said, “I’ve hung some new curtains in my bedroom. Would you like to see them?”

“Serena Wendy Campbell, that has to be the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard and I’ve heard more than a few in my time,” Bernie admonished before adding with an amused smile, “but yes, I’d love to see them.”

oooOooo

The two women stood by the bed kissing for a while, savouring every touch as though it was their very first while slowly removing each other’s clothes as they went, letting each discarded item fall in an untidy pile on the floor.

It was as their mouths parted so that they could remove the last of their remaining clothing, that the two suitcases, one large and the other ‘carry-on’ size lurking in the shadows by the window, caught Bernie’s eye.

“Planning a trip?”

Surprised by the seemingly random question, Serena followed the line of Bernie’s gaze.

“Oh, those,” Serena said, silently chastising herself for her carelessness, “I’ve been away…I just haven’t had the chance to put them back in the top of the wardrobe.” Strictly speaking, it was the truth although she did omit to say that she was intending to use them again soon.

“Somewhere nice?” Bernie asked, remembering back to when she’d come to visit and had found the place locked up tight.

“Mmmm…interesting rather than nice,” Serena replied, trying hard to concentrate as Bernie leaned towards her and placed a flurry of kisses just below her ear. “And certainly not as nice as right here, right now.”

Serena dipped her head and began kissing her way across Bernie’s collar bone then followed a line down to her breasts.

Both women soon forgot the suitcases as well as the months of angst and any other problems that might currently exist in the world outside as they slipped between the cool, fresh sheets and into one another’s arms.

oooOooo


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6. Bernie and Serena Together

Bernie lay back on her pillow, one arm tucked beneath her head, the other flung across her forehead as if to keep her thoughts from escaping and have their noisy tussling awaken Serena who slept on peacefully beside her, blissfully unaware of Bernie’s early morning musings.

Bernie had managed a few hours of sleep but the worm of worry that was her son and the drugs she had found in his locker, had begun to work its way into her dreams during the night until it finally wrestled her into full consciousness. Now she lay there wide awake, staring up blankly at the ceiling with her many imaginings of how the ziplock bag may have come into her son’s possession and made its way to the locker playing on a continuous loop through her head. As each fresh question was raised, Bernie would attempt to find an answer but it was an exercise in frustration when she didn’t even know for sure the exact nature of the problem _. Did Cam have the drugs for personal use? Why? Maybe he was holding it for a friend? A stupid thing to do. Maybe someone he didn’t know had put the drugs in his locker. Who? How would they get them in there without his knowledge? Did anyone else know his lock combination?_

It was quite likely that her imagination was making matters far worse than they actually were and Bernie reasoned that it was pointless to speculate but she couldn’t seem to drive the thoughts from her mind.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that the rain ceased its incessant drumming on the rooftops of Wyvern. The sudden, deafening silence that followed caused Serena to stir only slightly at first but then, after a drowsy few minutes, to rouse more fully.

She lay for a time in that pleasurable state of limbo between slumber and consciousness, savouring its peacefulness. It was while she was in this state she became aware of the sense of contentment that had settled over her, of it having seeped through her skin and into her very bones. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced for a long time and it brought a smile to her face along with the memory of the previous evening, its sights, its sounds, the touches … of holding Bernie in her arms, their bodies pressed tightly together, bare breast against bare breast, lips upon lips; the amatory tickle of Bernie’s warm breath on her neck, across her stomach and ultimately down the entire length of her body; the wet kisses on her breast, Bernie’s tongue teasing their tips to a hardness then rolling them gently between her fingers and thumb; the sensual pleasure of the slickness forming between her legs; the soft sighs that gradually became more urgent as each woman reached their flashpoint.

As the cloud of sleep lifted, Serena rolled over towards the source of her contentment, taking particular care not to disturb, only to find that she was already wide awake and wearing a worried frown on her face.

“Please tell me you aren’t regretting last night?” Serena begged in a whisper which was still hoarse from sleep.

“What?... No. Of course not,” Bernie replied emphatically as she stirred from her own thoughts and realised what Serena was asking, “do you?”

“Of course not.” What Serena knew she may well regret, however, was having to leave it all behind. Her doubts were to the point where she was having serious misgivings about whether she was even capable of turning her back on this woman if she declined her offer. Maybe she could oversee the project from here in England. With technology and communications at such a level these days, it was a possibility worth investigating.

“Is everything alright?” Serena tried again.

“Perfectly.”

Bernie turned over and attempted to draw Serena into her arms as reassurance but Serena wasn’t having any of it. She held back and wore that look that told Bernie she knew there was something wrong and it was time to spill the beans.

Bernie rolled onto her back again, her eyes picking out that same spot on the ceiling as before on which to focus.

“What is it?” Serena asked, trying not to fret as several unwelcome responses flashed through her mind… _Was there someone else she’d prefer to be with? Did she not want to be in a relationship anymore? Had last night been a final end to it all…‘break-up’ sex?_

Suspecting the thoughts that might be playing through Serena’s mind, Bernie decided she had no choice but to explain. In a way it would be a relief to be able to confide in someone.

“It’s Cam.”

“Cam? What’s he done? What’s happened?”

It was Serena’s turn to give reassurance. She propped herself up on her elbow and rested her head on her hand while placing the other arm across Bernie’s bare stomach and drawing their bodies closer. She gave her full attention as Bernie proceeded to tell her about Leon's arrival in the AAU, Fletch finding Cam’s phone and finally, discovering the ziplock bag in Cam’s locker.

“I can’t believe he’s using again,” Bernie said as she finished her recount, a sense of desperation in her voice as she ran a hand through her fringe, “you’d think I’d notice…you’d think somebody would notice if he was… and to leave it in his hospital locker is just asking for ….”

Bernie suddenly stopped talking, recognising that she had unintentionally hit a very sensitive nerve. A moment of tense silence hung in the air. Drugs had played a significant role in Elinor’s death and Serena had, in the past, berated herself endlessly for not picking up the signs.

_Damn, how could I be so stupid, Bernie muttered to herself._

“I’m so sorry, Serena, I didn’t mean to …”

“I know you didn’t,” Serena whispered, “I’m fine.” She kissed Bernie’s forehead. There were going to be moments like this forever more and she’d have to learn to deal with them.

“What should I do?” Bernie asked.

Serena paused before answering. She’d thought about this exact question many, many times since her daughter’s death. What should she have done to help Elinor?

“I think, first of all, you should listen to what Cam has to say. Give him a chance to explain,” she said hesitantly, not confident she was sufficiently qualified to give advice on such a matter, “you might be making a mountain out of a molehill. It could all be perfectly innocent…”

With a doubtful roll of her eyes, Bernie said, “How could anything to do with ‘Ice’ be perfectly innocent?”

“Just promise me you’ll talk to him first.” Not talking to Elinor…not listening to her… was the one thing Serena regretted the most and she didn’t want Bernie to make the same mistake.

“I promise,” Bernie whispered as she ran her knuckles lightly along Serena’s jawline and reached up to kiss the tip of her nose. Having shared her problem, there was a distinct lightening of her load. She would talk to Cam and hear what he had to say for himself.

While feeling great empathy for Bernie’s situation with her son, Serena had to also admit to being quietly relieved that the problems she’d conjured up as to the possible source of the concern had been completely off-base. She went to snuggle in closer but Bernie, having noted the time, pulled back, sat upright and tossed back the covers.

“Sorry, Serena. I have to go…I want to be at the hospital before Cam starts his shift which is in an hour…And first, I have to go home and change…I’m too old to be caught doing the walk of shame… then I need to sort this mess out…”

“Of course…go,” Serena urged, “I completely understand.”

 As she watched Bernie pick her clothes from the pile on the floor and dress, she dared to think nothing could put a dampener on her day but it wasn’t long before she remembered that they hadn’t discussed the very reason that she’d gone to see Bernie in the first place. They needed to talk and it needed to be as soon as possible.

“Can we meet up for lunch?” she asked as Bernie dislodged her boots from under the bed and then, balancing first on one foot and then the other, put them on but without bothering to zip them up.

“That would be wonderful. By then I should know if Cam is innocent of all crimes or needs to be hung, drawn and quartered.”

“Don’t be too harsh on him. No matter what the outcome, he will need to know he has someone on his side to help him and as his mother, that someone is you.”

“Oh, you know me…a pillar of patience and understanding,” Bernie replied jokingly as she attempted to lift the mood. She didn’t want Serena slipping back into that bleak interior place that was beyond of her reach.

Bernie leaned over and placed one last kiss on Serena’s mouth.

“I love you,” Serena said as their lips parted.

“I love you too.”

_Yes, but do you love me enough to give up everything you have here to join me and start afresh in a whole different country, Serena asked herself, and, loving you the way I do, should I even ask you to do that?_

From the doorway, Bernie gave Serena a brief smile and a wave. Serena responded with a smile of her own although it lacked the same enthusiasm, then Bernie was out of sight.

Serena lay back and listened to Bernie’s faint tread upon the stairs, the thud and click of the front door closing and finally, the sound of the engine of Bernie’s car coming to life. She followed its steady purr down the street, a solitary sound this early in the morning, until it was out of earshot.

Alone once more in her bed, the warmth from Bernie’s body almost but not quite faded, Serena went back to her thoughts of the evening but this time less languidly, this time reproaching herself for succumbing to her more primal urges in preference to bringing up the very subject she had invited Bernie to her house to discuss … _Or had she subconsciously hoped or even planned for it to happen that way all along, she wondered._

It didn’t matter now; the deed was done. What did matter was that, for all her efforts, she had probably made her decision that much harder. Her troubled heart, so thoroughly soothed by the intimacies of the night and by Bernie’s proclamation that she still loved her, may well end up being broken all over again.

_Is that what life is really all about, Serena asked herself, just a series of heartbreaks with some light relief in-between?_

Deep down, she wasn’t convinced but, after the six months she’d just had, it seemed like it might be true.

oooOooo

As Bernie waited on the footpath adjacent to the entrance to Holby City Hospital to allow an emergency vehicle to pass, she spotted her son going up the front steps and through the doors. Checking that all was now clear, she hurried across the road and was very quickly only a few paces behind him and catching up rapidly.

“My office…now,” she said quietly but firmly as she sidled up beside him. Her tone left no room for argument.

After walking by his side for a few more strides, she then picked up her pace again and headed off down the corridor towards her office, leaving Cameron to follow.

“Good morning to you too,” he muttered to himself, unhappy with having his day spoiled before it had even started and puzzled as to what he might have done to be so plainly in his mother’s bad book. He already had enough on his plate today without Bernie Wolfe snapping at his heels.

Bernie strode into her office, dropping her satchel on her chair as she wasn’t planning on sitting down any time soon. While she waited for her son to appear, she began to pace the room until she became aware that she was letting her irritation and the trepidation get the better of her. She forced herself to stand still. Her hands gripped the top of her chair as she took a deep, steadying breath.

“Let him explain,” she told herself, “he’s not a child anymore, he’s an adult…yes, but he’s my son…”

As she was having this internal argument, Cam appeared and gave a cursory tap on the open door.

“Come in,” Bernie said with all the calm she could muster.

He took a couple of steps into the room and waited.

“You can sit down if you like.” Bernie indicated towards one of the spare chairs but seeing that his mother had no intention of sitting, Cam declined the offer. He also hoped he wouldn’t be here long enough to have the need to sit. He had some rather urgent business of his own to do.

“Are you missing something?” Bernie asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Cameron looked at her baffled by such a vague question and surprised by the fact that, perhaps through some psychic mother-son connection, she knew he had lost his phone.

“My phone… I’ve lost my phone,” he said cautiously, suspecting that he might be being lured into some kind of trap, “you haven’t seen it, have you? I think I lost it on the ward.”

“As a matter of fact, I have. Fletch found it on the floor near 24…he thought it was yours so, when he couldn’t find you, he gave it to me.”

“Great…excellent,” Cam said with palpable relief, “where is it? Can I have it…please.”

Despite his joy at the thought of getting his precious phone back, he remained apprehensive about the serious expression still on his mother’s face.

“It’s not here… I put it in your locker.”

“In my locker? Thanks. I’ll just go and…”

Suddenly his mother’s demeanour made sense to him. She had seen inside his locker.

“How did you open the lock?” he asked tentatively. In the scheme of things, it was an irrelevant question but he didn’t know what else to say and when in doubt, attack is supposed to be the best form of defence.

“It didn’t take a great deal of imagination…I used the last four numbers of your birth date…and bingo.”

There was a silent stand-off for a few beats. Neither party wanting to be the first to mention the small ziplock bag of trouble.

“What made you think you could just go into my locker?” Cam finally said but reading his mother’s body language, he reassessed his approach and added more meekly, “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“That’s good,” Bernie replied with a coolness that she didn’t really feel, “because from where I’m standing, it looks _stupendously_ bad.”

“I can explain.”

Bernie settled herself on the corner of her desk, arms folded across her chest. “Please do,” she said, “I’m all ears.”

Cam took a furtive look out into the corridor to ensure there was no one within earshot then, just to make sure no one else could hear, he took a few steps further into the room.

“Remember yesterday afternoon, when Leon first came in and you had a go at me when I was tying my shoelace?” he said in a low voice.

Bernie could have argued that she didn’t have ‘ _a go_ ’ at him but instead, she simply nodded.

“What actually happened was…I saw Leon slip something from his pocket and drop it on the floor just after you gave the order to prep him for surgery. When I looked down, I saw the plastic bag…I had my suspicions as to what it probably was so I bent down to check…that’s when I told you I was tying my shoelace…I tucked it into the side of my runner.”

“Why didn’t you just declare it? Hand it in?” Bernie asked. 

“I don’t know…I didn’t want to get Leon into trouble, I guess…he had enough to deal with already…besides, there wasn’t time, we were rushing him into theatre and I wanted to be a part of that.” With the back of his hand, Cameron wiped away the fine sheen of perspiration that had formed above his top lip.

“Cam, there are strict hospital protocols to follow in cases like this as I’m sure you’re well aware…and they’re there to protect us, the doctors, as much as anyone else…”

“I know…I know…and I was going to report it…honestly.”

“So why was it still sitting in your locker after you’d left, last night?” she asked, her irritation getting the better of her.

“There wasn’t any time… I was hoping to scrub in on the surgery and when that didn’t happen, I wanted to be there to observe. I thought if you didn’t see me in the observation area, you’d think I was sulking after I’d walked off…”

 “But you didn’t stay for the entire surgery.”

“I stayed long enough to watch the laparotomy and as you began to repair the perforation but then the alarm on my phone buzzed…I was supposed to be meeting Saskia for drinks…I didn’t want to be late.”

“So you put the bag in your locker?”

“Not quite,” he said then hesitated. His next move probably wasn’t going to win him any “Intern of the Year” awards and his mother was sure to let him know that. “I went back to bed 24 …I was going to put the bag back on the floor…pretend I didn’t find it…let someone else find it and do the paperwork…That must have been when I left my phone behind. I put it down while I picked the bag out of my shoe.”

Bernie’s only reaction was to put her face in her hands and shake her head in frustration.

“But I couldn’t go through with it…I realised how ridiculous and ….and…”

“Irresponsible,” Bernie provided

“Yes, I guess so… I put it in my locker instead…when I went to change. I was going to hand it in first thing this morning except…well, you got hold of me first.”

He looked over at Bernie for any signs of skepticism but there seemed to be none…irritation, yes…exasperation, definitely… and possibly some disappointment…but she appeared to believe him.

“You’re going to have to fix your mistake and I can’t guarantee you’ll still have a job here when you’re done.”

Bernie was fairly certain that he would most likely be on the receiving end of a severe reprimand, there might even be an internal investigation or even a period of suspension but, if he was telling the truth, he should still have a place at Holby, although, he wasn’t doing his career any favours. However, she wanted the gravity of what he’d done to truly sink in.

“Right,” he said dejectedly. At the time, it hadn’t seemed to be such a serious thing but now he could see that he’d been extremely foolish. “If you’re finished with me I will go and do it now…

“Yes, you will,” Bernie agreed and then, to his surprise, she stood up and embraced him, rubbing a hand across his back as she had done when he was a boy in need of soothing. “Now go,” she said as she released him.

As she watched him exit her office and head down the corridor, she knew there was one more thing she had to do before she could feel totally comfortable. She had to corroborate his story with Leon who may or may not wish to admit to having drugs on his person when he was brought in by the emergency team. She didn’t want to do this. Cam was her son and she believed him but, if it had been another F1, she would have had to do the same and, for Cameron’s sake, she couldn’t afford to show him any favouritism.

oooOooo

“How are you feeling?” Bernie asked using her usual affable bedside manner so as to not forewarn Leon of what was to come and, of course, above all, he was her patient.

“Not too bad, thanks, Doc. How long do you think until I can go home?”

Leon attempted to sit himself more upright but the pain in his chest quickly laid him out again.

“It won’t be for a few days yet, I’m afraid,” Bernie replied as she inspected the wound to his chest, “you had quite a severe perforation to the diaphragm, although you were very lucky that the damage was confined to that. We want to make sure you’re healing properly and that there’s no sign of infection before we send you on your way.”

Bernie could tell he wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of spending several more days in a hospital bed but she wasn’t prepared to risk discharging him prematurely.

From what she could see on the surface, everything was looking as it should at this stage. Wanting to have a private word with Leon, Bernie dispatched the attending nurse to fetch the results of Leon’s latest post-op scans.

Bernie then proceeded to run an eye over the readouts of each of the monitors attached to her patient while she thought of a way to broach the subject of the parcel of drugs he may or may not have left behind without making any insinuations or accusations, however, it was Leon who gave her the opening she needed.

“How’s my uncle doing?” he asked.

“Your uncle?”

“Yeah. The guy who came in at the same time as me…with the stomach wound.”

Bernie looked up from the monitor she was currently observing.

“He’s your uncle?”

“Yeah,” Leon said coyly, “I didn’t mean to hurt him, you know…it was self-defence.”

“And was it this uncle who inflicted your wounds?”

Leon nodded, red-faced.

“I don’t mean to pry but do you mind telling me what happened?” Bernie asked, trying to make it sound like it was something she should be privy to. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t her job to ask these questions but she needed to know if the drugs were involved.

She’d given him the option of not answering and she suspected for a moment that he was going to take that option but, after gathering his thoughts, he said, “It was my 18th birthday and we had some family over for a special lunch…aunts, uncles, cousins…that kind of thing…and then I was going to meet up with some mates later for a night on the town…only, this happened, didn’t it.” Leon motioned to the wound on his chest and his bandaged arms and hands.

“Your uncle stabbed you?” Bernie said, putting him back on the track she wanted him to follow.

“Yeah…it was getting pretty late and he’d had way too much to drink…I went to the loo and then into the kitchen… that’s where my cousin, Ava, bailed me up…she’s my uncle’s daughter and he thinks the sun shines out of her ar… ‘you know where’.”

“Right,” Bernie said with a smile, letting him know that he didn’t need to stand on formalities with her.

“He doesn’t know the half of what she gets up to,” Leon continued, warming up to subject now that he’d started. “Anyway, she ambushes me in the kitchen and asks me if I want some ‘gear’ to get my night started…she said it was her birthday present to me then she hands me this little plastic bag. I took it but then it hit me what was inside… I told her I didn’t want it and that she shouldn’t have it either…I don’t do that stuff, Doc…anyway, she just laughed…I went to give it back to her and that’s when her dad walked in…my Uncle Rob.”

Leon paused to take a calming breathe while Bernie checked the sutures on his arms and hands as well as the level of antibiotics being pumped into his system.

“Well, he got the wrong end of the stick, didn’t he…he thought I was the one pushing the drugs onto his precious Ava. I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t listen and Ava just stood there saying nothing…she’s been caught before, you see…with drugs…she knew she’d be in deep shit if she owned up. I went to walk out of the kitchen but he picked up the carving knife and began waving it around like a mad idiot and poking it at me…I blocked it with my hands…but he wasn’t playing around…he was real serious…a crazy look in his eyes… so I grabbed another knife from the block…I just wanted to scare him…make him back off, you know…I didn’t want to kill him or anything.”

Bernie could see he was becoming agitated.

“It’s okay, Leon,” she said quietly, “Relax now. I’m not sure how your uncle is but he was in good hands. I’ll send a nurse to check for you if you’d like.”

Leon nodded then lay his head back further into his pillow and closed his eyes. “Thanks, Doc.”

She gave him some time to settle while she re-dressed the lacerations on his arms but once she could see that he was calm again, Bernie said, “Can I ask one last thing?”

Leon looked up at her.

“What happened to the plastic bag?”

“I had it in my pocket,” he replied steadily enough, “but when you said you were going to operate, well, I didn’t want it found on me in case you thought it was mine so I took it out of my pocket when I thought no one was looking and dropped it on the floor…I guess I wasn’t thinking straight…I don’t know where it is now.”

‘Right,” Bernie said, “probably best we have a look for it.”

He gave her a resigned smile.

“Otherwise, everything looks good here, so I’ll leave you to rest…and I’ll have someone check on your uncle for you.”

oooOooo

Once she was back in her office, Bernie flopped down in her chair. Pushing aside the small stack of files that were in her way, she crossed her arms on top of her desk and rested her head on them. She closed her eyes and let the relief wash over her like a wave, taking her troubles with it as it receded.

She was still in that position of repose when she felt the light touch of a hand on her shoulder and a mouth being pressed gently to the top of her head. She looked up to find Serena standing beside her. Her first thought was that she had fallen asleep and now Serena was here for their lunch date, however, a quick glance at the clock on the wall told her that it was only a little after eight.

“You’re early,” she said.

“I missed you,” Serena answered, neatly side-stepping, for the time being, the real reason she was here. “How did it go with Cameron?”

“The good news is that he’s not involved with taking or procuring illegal drugs in any way, shape or form…the bad news is he’s broken one or two of the more serious hospital protocols concerning finding drugs on a patient.”

“What happened?” Serena’s curiosity was well and truly piqued.

“Can I tell you on the way to the cafeteria?” Bernie suggested as she stood up and stretched, “I’m in desperate need of a coffee and …”

She’d been about to add ‘a cigarette’ but she remembered that she was supposed to be quitting. She tried not to dwell on it. Her willpower had held out so far, however, she could feel it becoming a little frayed at the edges.

As they made their way to the cafeteria, Bernie filled Serena in on all that Cameron had told her and the fact that Leon had unknowingly backed up her son’s version of events.

“Do you think this Leon is telling the truth about the drugs belonging to his cousin?” Serena asked as they joined the queue at the counter to be served.

Over the clatter of plates and cutlery and the buzz of conversation happening around them, Bernie thought for a minute or two. “Yes…I do… If he was guilty of having the drugs for himself, I don’t think he would have mentioned them at all but he did and without any prompting from me.”

Reading the not-so-convinced expression on Serena’s face, Bernie added, “And I’m not just believing him because I want it to be true.”

Wanting a change of subject, Bernie then asked, “What brings you to Holby at such an early hour? I thought our date was for lunch. Has lunch time changed and someone’s forgotten to send me the memo?”

“Ah…yes…like I said before, I was missing you terribly…”

Now it was Bernie’s turn to look skeptical.

“And I need to talk to you quite urgently, if I can. Do you mind…I can come back later if it’s not convenient.”

I’ve just made it through one crisis and already another is upon me if that frown is anything to judge by, Bernie thought privately but she said, “Now is fine. What is it about?”

“Can we discuss it back in your office?”

Bernie fortified herself with a large swig of her coffee as they walked back the way they had come. On the way, Bernie tried to extract a clue as to what was so urgent but Serena remained reluctant to say anything until they were in the privacy of her office.

_Perhaps she would allow herself just one cigarette if this ‘talk’ didn’t go well, Bernie decided._

When they arrived, Serena opened the door but allowed Bernie to lead the way in. This time, Bernie sat down more steadily in her chair having now had the benefit of a caffeine hit. Serena pulled over one of the visitors’ chairs that usually sat by the wall. She positioned herself close enough that their knees were touching then reached forward and took one of Bernie’s hands in her own, a move that was making Bernie more worried by the second.

“As I told you last night when you asked about the suitcases…I went away for a while…” Serena began, her eyes focussed on Bernie’s hand that she was holding, running a thumb lightly across the pale, faintly-freckled skin.

“On a holiday?”

“Not exactly…I think, more than anything, I was running away or, at least, trying to.” Serena looked up into Bernie’s face. “However, I’ve discovered that you can run away from a country, from people and even responsibilities but you can’t run away from your problems. They go with you like part of your luggage…The only way to be rid of them is to face them and hopefully solve them.”

“And where did you run away to?”

“Africa.”

“Africa?” Of all the places Bernie might have guessed, Africa was not one of them.

“Yes…Nairobi, to be specific. It’s in…”

“Kenya. I know where Nairobi is.” Again, it was the last place she could possibly imagine Serena being…Cape Town, Cairo, Zanzibar or even on the beach in the Seychelles…but not Nairobi.

The script Serena had been rehearsing over and over in her head for weeks had her going into all the ‘whys and wherefores’ of her being in Nairobi but now it all seemed indulgent and irrelevant.

“To cut a very long story short-ish…I was staying just out of the centre of the city but where it was still quite busy… One morning, I went to cross the road near my hotel when a matatu came weaving its way down the street...a matatu is…”

“A taxi…a van thing,” Bernie supplied.

“Exactly,” Serena said, “they’re intended for about a dozen people but they’re regularly packed tight like a can of sardines…this one was no exception…I managed to jump out of its way as it swerved past but the woman beside me didn’t make it. It side-swiped her. She was eight months pregnant.”

Although still clueless as to where this might all be leading, it all felt rather ominous to Bernie but she was determined not to jump to conclusions. She’d learned that lesson once already today.

“So you helped treat her?”

“What else could I do? I couldn’t leave her lying there and there was no one else to help her…One of the bystanders called an ambulance while I did what I could at the scene which was pitifully little I’m afraid…it was obvious that the injuries were internal…and there was the baby.”

“I’m sure just having someone there who knew what they were doing would have been very reassuring for her.”

“Perhaps,” Serena said almost dismissively, “anyway, when the ambulance finally arrived…it seemed to take an age…I was allowed to travel with her to the hospital once I’d make it clear to the paramedics that I was a qualified doctor and surgeon.”

Serena released Bernie’s hand as she reached over and took a tissue from the box on the desk which she used to blot away the tears she could feel about to spill. In her mind’s eye, the scene was as vivid as the day it happened, the injured and frightened woman lying in the back of the emergency vehicle, terrified for her unborn child. After years as a surgeon working in emergency wards where she had seen the human form ripped and damaged in unimaginable ways, Serena often thought she was immune to such sights but it turned out that she could still be moved.

“Oh, Bernie. You should have seen the hospital’s emergency ward…You would have been completely horrified…There didn’t appear to be any form of organisation…no triage that I could tell…patients just had to take pot luck that they would be treated.”

“So did your pregnant woman receive treatment?” Despite herself, Bernie gave a half-smile as she pictured the forty kinds of hell she was fairly sure Serena would have raised in order to get her patient the treatment she required. The Serena Campbell she knew would not let the fact that she was a foreign visitor to a city stop her from doing all she could to ensure the woman was properly looked after.

“I might have caused a bit of a scene there in the ER,” Serena replied, a flush of colour filling her cheeks at the memory, “but yes, the doctors saw to her quite quickly although I dread to think what might have happened if I hadn’t been there to hurry them along…They found the baby was in distress so they performed an emergency C-section…Miraculously, it all ended as well as could be hoped for. The woman gave birth to a baby girl, Zawadi, who, despite her early and traumatic entrance into this world, was surprisingly healthy. Rehema, the mother, had to have her spleen removed and her broken leg set.”

Serena stopped her story there. She was coming to the sharp end of the conversation. She needed to compose herself…prepare herself…for whatever outcome. She looked up into Bernie’s eyes. It was difficult to tell what she was thinking.

“The upshot of all of this is that, a week later, I found myself in the office of the Head of the hospital putting forward a proposal for an Acute Admissions Unit.”

Serena paused once again to gauge Bernie’s reaction. The woman’s expression was giving nothing away, however, she had removed her hand from Serena’s grip and was leaning back in seat, her arms folded loosely across her chest.

“And they accepted it?” Bernie asked.

Serena nodded, her eyes pleading with her to understand as she was certain it was obvious to Bernie now that she was planning to leave again.

“I’ve spent a good part of the last few months organising everything and two days ago I had a phone call saying that the final phase of funding has been approved. All I have left to do is sign the contract and send it off.”

“How long before you leave? You are leaving, aren’t you?” Bernie asked, keeping a tight rein on the sadness and disappointment she felt and that threatened to spill over into tears.

“That’s the thing,” Serena replied, looking up at her once more, “we’re supposed to be opening in five weeks but I don’t know if I can go …not on my own…not without you. All along, I’ve been hoping that you would come with me…we could do it together… but I can see that that is me being selfish. I can’t ask you to give up all you have here at Holby…”

Serena watched with surprise as Bernie’s stony expression melted away and a warm smile spread across her face.

“Of course you can ask me,” she said, leaning forward and taking both of Serena’s hands in her own, “and I’d accept.”

“Are you sure?” Serena asked in astonishment. “Wouldn’t you like some time to think about it?”

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about in the months you’ve been gone… You know, I thought I loved doing this job but what I found I actually loved was doing it with you…and if I have to go to Nairobi to be with you again, then I will…happily.”

“I…I…I don’t know what to say,” Serena’s stammered as she drew back her head and looked into Bernie’s eyes, “except that I love you so very much, Berenice Wolfe.”

oooOooo

Bernie stood back a step from the side of Serena’s bed to appraise her latest masterpiece, the suitcase she had just finished packing. She ran through the checklist in her head one last time to make sure all she needed was there…her  ‘smalls’ bag was on top and to one side, shirts, tops and T-shirts underneath, trousers and shorts beside them with pyjamas on top of that layer, socks stuffed inside shoes which filled the spaces around the edges along with a waterproof jacket, a sweatshirt and an extra coat, all rolled up and fitted snugly into gaps with enough space left in one corner for her toiletries bag which would go in the next morning.

“How do you do that?” Serena asked from the opposite side of the bed. She was frowning and rubbing at her temples with her fingertips to ease away an oncoming headache.

“Do what?”

“Fit all your things so neatly into your suitcase and have room left over?”

Serena had spent the last hour packing her things into her suitcase then unpacking it, discarding items so as to fit other things in only to include them again a short while later. Her case was full to capacity and yet there were still several piles of things she wanted to take sitting on her bed.

“If nothing else, being in the army teaches you to pack efficiently,” Bernie replied, suppressing her amusement as she took in the sight of Serena’s suitcase, overflowing at the edges with blouses and coats and several pairs of shoes. “You only pack the absolute essentials…You have to be ruthless.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do but it’s not happening,” Serena moaned. 

That was too much for Bernie. Her laughter escaped. Serena tried to look suitably upset with being laughed at but, as she looked at all the mounds of clothing she was attempting to take, she too could see the funny side and let a smile slip.

Giving up her quest for the time being, Serena rounded the end of the bed as Bernie was zipping up her case and sidled up next to her.

“This is your last chance, you know,” Serena said, wrapping her arms around Bernie’s waist and resting her chin onto her shoulder.

“My last chance for what?”

“To change your mind… if you don’t want to go, you need to say so now or forever hold your peace.”

Bernie looked pensive for a moment then, much to Serena’s shock and horror, she unzipped her bag.

“You’re not going? You’ve changed your mind?”

Serena’s heart clenched as she watched Bernie remove the top couple of items from her suitcase. It wasn’t until she noticed the hint of a smirk form on Bernie’s face that she felt it release again.

“I’m joking,” Bernie said, her smirk now a full-blown smile.

“That really isn’t funny, Ms Wolfe,” Serena replied, wanting to be cross with her but too relieved to pull it off completely.

“Why would I change my mind?”

“I don’t know…I just wanted to give you a final opportunity to pull out if you were having second thoughts.”

Bernie turned to face Serena, resting her arms lightly around her neck and pulling her in close enough that their foreheads rested against each other.

“For the last time, Serena Wendy Campbell, I really want to do this,” Bernie whispered earnestly, “I love you and I want to share this adventure with you… I want to be by your side always…and besides that, I’ve handed in my notice at Holby…I’m unemployed so what’s to lose with a little trip to Africa.”

“They’d take you back in a heartbeat.”

“Well, they can’t have me…I’m going with you to Nairobi. We’re going to do wonderful, exciting things together.”

With no words to express her joy, Serena placed a kiss on Bernie’s mouth, softly at first as they moved into a tighter embrace and then there was a shift so it became a kiss where each woman responded in kind to the growing demands of the others’ increasingly hungry lips, hot tongue and deepening desires until their antics saw them topple onto the bed sending several of Serena’s piles of clothes sprawling onto the floor.

“Anything that ends up on the floor you don’t pack…Agreed?” Bernie said as she lay beside Serena, her hand working at the buttons on Serena’s blouse, her mouth kissing each bit of the newly-exposed skin between her breasts.

oooOooo

 

The loud honking of a horn sounded from out in the street. Serena cringed. She hadn’t intended to wake the whole street with their early morning departure.

She went to the bottom of the stairs and called up to Bernie, “The taxi’s here.”

“Right. Coming,” Bernie called back. She had been doing a final check upstairs that all the windows were shut tight and nothing electrical had been left on.

Hearing Bernie’s footsteps on the stairs, Serena finished up her final checks also and went to the front door.

“All ready to go?” Bernie asked as she joined Serena who was standing among the clutter of suitcases, carry-on bags and handbags in the hallway.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, trying not to think about all the clothes, shoes and other miscellaneous items Bernie had convinced her to leave behind.

Bernie opened the door and signalled to the taxi driver that they were on their way. She then went ahead, wheeling the two larger suitcases down the path with a carry-on bag slung over one shoulder and her favourite leather satchel over the other.

Serena put her key in the front door and with a sense of the symbolic, she locked it for what was to be the last time for many, many months. She was closing a phase in her life and preparing to open a new one with Bernie there to share the experience with her.

“Terminal 5,” Bernie said to the driver as Serena closed the taxi door and settled in beside her for the ride.

oooOooo

Epilogue

Although they had been hopeful of having the AAU at Nairobi’s General Hospital up and running efficiently in two years, by which time Serena and Bernie had made tentative plans to return to England, at the end of this period they both had to concede that they may have been a bit too ambitious in their estimation.

As with any new venture, particularly ones of this scale, there was a steep learning curve. They had their successes and …Bernie and Serena didn’t like to use the term ‘failures’ so, perhaps more accurately, referred to such incidences as simply being ‘less successful’ and from each of these ‘less successful’ experiences a valuable lesson was learned and the new-found knowledge used to improve procedures.

More often than not, in the first year or so, conditions and equipment were less than ideal but with Ms Berenice Wolfe and Ms Serena Campbell at the helm, they were nothing if not flexible and everyone quickly learned to improvise where necessary.

As expected, there had been setbacks, some only minor and easily overcome such as new equipment not arriving on time and staff in need of appropriate training. There was, however, one major problem that had put the whole future of their plan at risk.

The Head of the hospital who Serena and Bernie had come to call a friend, was killed in a car accident only months into their project. He was the man Serena had first gone to when she had originally come up with the idea. It was his office she had burst into, telling him it had to happen, his hospital had to have an AAU and she was the person for the task. She had won him over and, from the beginning, he had advocated for her and their unit with all and sundry until it was approved. He then gave Serena free reign to do what was necessary to get it up and running as well as providing her a healthy budget.

His replacement, although liking the idea of a dedicated AAU…it looked good for the hospital and his personal reputation to have such a unique unit operating so effectively … but he was concerned about the amount of money being spent. Did they really need so many staff and such expensive equipment?

It had taken some convincing on the part of both Bernie and Serena as to the importance of their methods and maintaining the level of care before they were given assurances for now that money from their budget wouldn’t be siphoned off to elsewhere.

On reflection, Bernie and Serena agreed that the most rewarding part of the whole experience was knowing that they had played a significant part in the development of the doctors and nursing staff they had taken onboard. During the process of selecting specialised staff, they had made it a priority to encourage and mentor the young, female doctors as it was still a novelty rather than the norm for women to go to medical school or be anything other than nurses in a hospital.

Serena, who had made herself quite well-known among the business community, big business and small alike, had even arranged for an annual scholarship to be awarded to help fund the way for the most promising girls wanting to study medicine and become doctors.

That first year had been most certainly full of challenges but none were insurmountable.  Most were to do with the setting up of the AAU but, of course, there was their personal life too. The laws being as they are in Nairobi made it illegal for Serena and Bernie to be open about their relationship but, as with everything else, they accepted the challenge. When they were in public, they were discreet, saving their displays of affection for the privacy of home. It wasn’t ideal but they had no choice but to accept it.

As they came to know people and develop friendships, however, they did confide in a handful of people who they had come to trust. It helped that their closest friends were another female couple who also worked at the hospital.

There were others who suspected the relationship but, seeing no harm in it, were prepared to turn a blind eye given all that these two women had done for the people here and the respect they had earned.

Over the five years that had passed since they’d first arrived in Nairobi, There had been irregular trips back to England. The first had been for the birth of Jason’s daughter and the second had been for his marriage to his fiancée, Greta, twelve months later.

There had been one or two other jaunts but, with their lives having changed so dramatically, Holby City Hospital and England were a long way from their thoughts as they sat together on the back verandah of their house in Nairobi, the fans whirring rapidly above them to temper the summer heat as well as drive away the flies. Instead, the conversation turned to questions of their future as they once again contemplated a more permanent change of scenery.

They had recently returned to Nairobi after taking a two-month break, ostensibly as a holiday, their first real chance to see more of Africa since they’d arrived, but also, to use the time away as an opportunity to see how well the AAU functioned without them overseeing it on a daily basis. They’d left two of their most experienced doctors, doctors who had been with the AAU from its inception, in-charge and from all reports, they’d done an exceptional job.

“I don’t think anyone even noticed we were gone,” Bernie complained.

“Perhaps it’s time to retire,” Serena suggested as she topped up her glass of iced tea and fanned her face with a magazine that had been left lying on the table.

“And do what?” Bernie said, aghast at the thought, “Knitting?”

“There’s nothing wrong with knitting,” Serena said, slightly affronted, “It’s a pleasant, relaxing activity with a practical outcome. The stereotype of a wizened crow in a rocking chair is unfair and sexist.”

“It’s too hot to knit,” Bernie replied, unsure as to whether Serena was serious or just teasing her, “and once you stop being active, once you stop using your brain and your body, that’s when you start to grow old.”

“I didn’t intend for us to give up living…We’d have time to do those things we’ve said we’d like to do but haven’t had time for… and I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but we grow old regardless.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do…and you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready to give up surgery quite yet but I do feel ready for a new challenge…plus the appeal of the African sun has definitely worn very thin,” Serena added as she sprayed her face, neck and chest with a fine mist of water. The temperature had been up in the high thirties every day for the last two weeks.

“Should we go back to England?” Bernie asked but with a perceptible lack of enthusiasm.

“I think I like the idea of trying somewhere new, if you’re up for it.”

“You know me, as long as we’re together, I’m up for anything, anywhere.”

Serena smiled at her and asked, “Where should we go?”

Bernie pushed back her seat. Serena watched on puzzled as she walked inside only to reappear a few moments later holding in her hand the globe that usually sat on her desk. She plonked it down in the centre of the small table.

“How about I spin the globe then I’ll close my eyes and put my finger on a random place. Wherever my finger lands, that’s where we’ll go…alright?”

“Alright,” Serena agreed dubiously, “within reason. I’m not going to some god-forsaken island in the middle of nowhere that has never even heard of Shiraz let alone sells it.”

Bernie began to spin the globe. She shut her eyes then waited a second or two before stopping it as she placed her finger on what might possibly be their next destination.

Both women leaned over to see which place on the globe Bernie’s finger had chosen. As they read it, they looked at one another and exclaimed in unison, “Iceland!”

oooOooo

 **Author’s notes:** That finishes this story. Thank you for being a generous audience. I would also like to give a big ‘thank-you’ to my ‘research assistant’, Julie. Without her knowledge of all things ‘Berena’, I’d still be wading through YouTube clips looking for details. Cheers, Jools. XXX

 

 

 

 

 

 


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